#so many times thought i was moving forward

[sshadow-heartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

•Squid Game C.AI bots here!

🤍Cho Sang-Woo x Player!Reader

🤍With one more game to go, Sang-Woo doesn’t like your odds. He loves you enough to know that you don’t need to continue suffering, taking things into his own hands…

🤍Word Count: 1.2k

🤍Tags: Angst, Murder, Slight Gore?, Glass Shard as murder weapon, Stabbing,False Hope, Betrayal

•masterlist

‼️If you are sensitive to the tagged topics, please keep scrolling!‼️

It had been a long day. After a dangerous game of glass stepping stones, you had watched player after player fall to their death. Only three of you remained - Sang-Woo, Gi-Hun and yourself.

Retreating to your bed, you looked up at the ceiling, the large piggy bank sending a soft, golden glow over the room. It had to be almost over, right? There were only three of you left, surely there were no more than two games to go.

You sighed, thinking of everything you would be able to do once winning. Pay off your debts, get a drink with your friends…

Start over.

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, and you turn your gaze towards the sound. It was just Sang-Woo, you had grown to become fond of the man during your time. You had been apart of the same team, alongside Gi-Hun, Ali…

Painful memories crossed your mind, Ali was gone. He wasn’t coming back. You had to move on, no matter how tough it felt.

“Quiet in here, huh?” Sang-Woo’s voice speaks up, drawing you away from your own mind. He was stood above you, a few scrapes across his face from the glass tiles exploding. Dark eyes studied yours, his own expression unreadable. You could never tell what he was truly thinking.

“Yeah… it’s weird without everyone else here,” you shrug, the room holding a strange eeriness without the hundreds of players that once resided with you. “How many more games do you think there are?”

He stayed quiet, thinking. “One… maybe two? That’s my guess. Just a little longer and we’ll all be out of here and way richer than we ever were, too.”

You smiles, nodding at his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right,” you nod, patting the space on your bed for him to sit down.

Taking a seat, Sang-Woo keeps his hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to rest on your thigh. His thumb strokes your skin through the fabric of your pants, looking down at you with a slight hint of softness. “You’re coming for a drink with me and Gi-Hun, right? When we get out of here?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Settling into comfortable silence, you allow your eyes to slip closed. You could feel Sang-Woo’s hand on your thigh, a small comfort in such a place. The two of you had grown close rapidly, you admired him. He was smart, and confident and seemed to know what he was doing. All of that lured you in, made you desperate to win his affection. He had seen you during the dalgona round, working ever so calm despite the shootings around you. He knew you would fight to survive, and he wasn’t sure if he loved you for it, or hated it.

Sang-Woo looked down at you, eyes closed and breathing steady. He couldn’t work out if you were sleeping, though it’d be best if you were…

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Gi-Hun across the room, taking a much needed nap. He turned back to you, sliding his hand out of his pocket. He glanced down, eyeing the object he had been keeping so secretly.

A glass shard, sharp and easy enough to stab someone with. He took a breath, steadying himself and his nerves. Sang-Woo had decided you needed to go nights before, a long thought-out choice. He theorised the final game would be between the three of you, some sort of direct competition against each of you. Sang-Woo knew there could only be one winner, one player who takes the amount home.

You had become a distraction to him, his feelings overriding his logic. You were beautiful, strangely optimistic after what you had been through, and gosh, he… he loved you. He knew that if you faced against him, he would let you win. Let you walk away with the money, and a better life. No, he needed that money for himself. It’d be him and Gi-Hun. He could take down his childhood best friend, surely…

Sang-Woo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A sick and twisted act of love before enacting his wicked plan. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, smiling up at him as though he’s the most wonderful man in the world. He wasn’t, not that you needed to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, trying to make it easier. You wouldn’t struggle, or cry or yell. He didn’t want you to view him as a monster. In a way, he was doing something good for you. What if you suffered in the next game? What if you had to watch him die? No… that wouldn’t be an option for you. You’d have the peaceful way out, all thanks to him.

“Lay with me?” You ask, softly. It was such an innocent request, he couldn’t deny you. Laying down behind you, he wrapped an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he lied. “Nobody will hurt you.”

Both laying in silence, legs tangled together, Sang-Woo waited for you to begin drifting off. He had to wait for the right moment, he didn’t want you to fight him on this. You wouldn’t realise it was for the good of things. His mind replayed everything you had told him. You were in severe debt, over a million won. You had nobody out there, no family, no friends. Loan sharks were waiting to get you.

It was no life for anyone. Even if you paid off your debts, you’d still be alone. There was no way you’d all make it out alive. He knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He, on the other hand, had plenty to return to. He could get himself out of debt, though his reputation would still be ruined. He could give money to his mother, have enough to live comfortably. Yes, Sang-Woo knew he needed to survive. It’d be better for him than it would be for you.

He leaned down, face nuzzled against your neck. A final moment of comfort, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He had the glass shard ready and waited, concealed in his free hand. Gi-Hun was still sleeping, nobody paying close enough attention to him or to you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Before your half-asleep mind can process his words, Sang-Woo digs the glass shard into your stomach. He continues to hold you close, your blood pooling on the bed. He strokes your hair, whispering soft comforts to you.

“Shh, just let it happen. Its for the best, you’ll see that.”

You cough and choke, unable to say anything as the light drains from your eyes and blood pools into your mouth. You felt pain, and nothing more than that. A white, hot blinding pain as the room began to dim. You were tired, so… so tired. It’d feel so good to close your eyes right now.

As Sang-Woo felt you go limp in his arms, a small tune played over the speakers, a voice ringing out.

“Lights out! All players must return to their beds.”

As the lights shut off, Sang-Woo closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. One more game, he repeated in his mind. One more game…

[lavenders388]

i've been hooked on squid games recently, could you possibly do one of the guards or the frontman protecting the reader from dying in a game?? bonus points if the reader gets hurt. please and thank you!! no pressure at all ofc! good luck with college!!

~One Lucky Day~

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ Pink Soldier x Reader

requested 💌

a/n: sorry for being super slow writing its for the silliest reason ever! my hard gel nails are grown the fuck out and its SO hard to type expect like one million fics in a row when i get these mf knives taken off of my fingers here in a few days!!! as always thank you for all the support!!!<3 -matcha

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ As you were led through the sickeningly colorful halls- an almost disrespectful contrast to the dark place you found yourself in, your mind raced uncontrollably about what the next game would be. You worried, like everyone else, about whether you would be able to survive and move forward. you looked around as you climbed the pink staircase. noticing how many men there were compared to women. your stomach began to turn thinking about how difficult it would be to compete against those who appeared to be much stronger than you. you tried to calm yourself; thinking about how during the previous game you had an advantage by being able to stop easily and stay balanced. you hoped that in this game strength wouldn't be much of a factor.

as you entered the game hall, your mind began to race a little less. "this doesn't look like it'll be too bad for me." you thought, noticing that there wasn't a whole lot that the set gave away; just two rainbow circles. "it looks like a track, maybe this will be more like red light green light again." you pondered; the thought of a more agility-based game making you feel more confidently. the recorded voice echoed within the hall as you were instructed to form groups of 5. The thought of being in a group also aided in soothing your fears, knowing that whatever ability you lacked there were other players with you to make up for it.

you eventually found your group, finding it hard to be accepted due to not being male. your group- 3 women and 2 men- ended up being picked to go dead last. you all breathed a sigh of relief- agreeing that this could be a very good thing, you weren't going first, and you had the most time to prepare. you all got to practice your individual mini-games, and you were able to calculate what the other players struggled with more and how to better handle that without wasting too much time. as you and the rest of the crowd cheered for the other groups, you began to feel more confident about the game.

finally, it was time for the two last groups to compete. you were happy to be closer to the end of this horrible place, but you trembled with the thought of what would happen if your group wasn't time-efficient enough. the other group- very kindly you thought- agreed that they would be cheering you on and you them; referencing to the lack of cheering crowd the other groups had. this gesture made you feel supported- and ready to compete in what would hopefully be the last game before you got to leave.

as your group moved through all of the mini-games, your heart sank realizing how little time you all had to spare. "fuck." you thought to yourself; not wanting to scare the rest of your team. "okay, we can't afford to mess up on this last one." you said to the man about to attempt the last game. you tried to sound encouraging. to hide your fear in a way that might help that man. with 5 seconds on the clock, you watched the other team cheer in relief as they completed the game and got to leave. your team wouldn't make it, your skin crawling as you came to the sinking realization.

five... four... three... two... one... you barely heard the recording counting down what you believed to be your last seconds on this earth. you wanted to cry, but you didn't have the time to even do that. as you watched your teammates fall to the ground, you expected the same fate to become of yourself. you felt a bullet graze the side of your upper shoulder; the pain sinking into the muscle like fire traveling through each of your veins. the pain almost distracted you from the conversation you began to overhear as you lied on the rainbow ground with your fallen teammates.

"i missed on purpose so that they'll be fresh." you heard coming from one of the masked guards. "fresh? what the fuck does he mean fresh?" you thought, the type of fear racing within you amounting to more than you've ever felt before. "okay, load them all up like normal." you heard from another guard as the pink-bowed coffins began to be lifted onto the ground beside you. you felt yourself being uncuffed; gently. and then loaded into the coffin. "don't worry. trust me." you almost didn't hear it as he said it so quietly under his breath as you were lowered with care into the coffin.

the lid was closed but not stapled shut like the rest. you didn't get moved either. time stood still as the rest of the guards left with the other coffins. after what felt like hours but was most likely only a few seconds, you saw the lid opening.

"hey just stay quiet, don't freak out or try to run. please just trust me." came softly from the only guard left in the room. you didn't know what it was, maybe just the desperation of having nothing else to do, or maybe it was his voice that made you trust him almost immediately. you lifted yourself out of the box that was supposed to be the last thing that ever touched your body. gingerly, as to not upset the gash on your shoulder. you winced, catching his attention as he began to help you up.

"why- why did you save me? i lost the game." you said, your voice trembling in shock and as the pain traveled up your arm. "i don't know." he said, soundly almost as scared as you were. "I'm so fucking sorry i shot you." your eyes met his, he looked to be near your age. his face was young and soft, with short black hair. he was the type of guy that if you weren't in this place, you would have considered going up to him to ask for his number or something along those lines. "thank you, so much." you said genuinely, your voice softening as you assessed that the situation was safe.

"what do we do now?" you asked him, even though it didn't look like he knew for himself. "ill patch your arm up, and ill lead you back to the other players when its lights out." your second chance at life was shocking; a bit disappointing that you still had to go back to the games. you found yourself not wanting to level him.

"what about you?" you questioned as he began to gently wrap some gauze around the wound on your arm. "ill be okay, they thought you went with the rest of the coffins, and they don't really seem to care about what happens to the players once they've been eliminated." you tried not to think about the last part of his answer. "will i see you again?" you asked, without really thinking about it. you weren't sure how to properly express your gratitude to the stranger who had saved you, and a part of you twinged with sadness about the thought of never looking into his brown eyes again.

"ill look after you in the games." he stated in a way that made you know full-heartedly that he meant it; and would do so.

as he walked you back to the hall you once dreaded returning to, you found yourself no longer feeling any fear at all.

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

"Okay, recap moment," you began, sitting at a table in the café with Rick, Folio, and Grace, the sun beginning to set outside and filling the room with hues of red and orange.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, he’s wanted to win you back," Rick explained again after taking a slow sip from his coffee, his voice tinged with guilt. "And he asked for my help, because apparently I’m his only friend."

"So, the psycho has been trying to get your attention all this time," Folio interjected, "and when Noah left for a couple of days, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something that would drive a wedge between you two."

"So, he had you leave him," you pointed to Rick, "in front of Noah’s house after he got drunk, knowing that the next morning, Noah would find him there and think I'd cheated on him."

Rick lowered his eyes, unable to meet your gaze. "Yeah... that was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew Noah would be hurt, and he knew that would push him away from you."

"Noah didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because he thought what happened with Hannah was about to happen again. And now, he feels awful because he thinks it's his fault—like he can’t keep someone who loves him around," Folio continued.

"And you feel guilty because if you had realized Jason’s intentions sooner, maybe you could have stopped this from happening," Rick added, concluding the chain of events.

"Wow," Grace remarked. "I still have so many questions."

"Yeah, me too," Rick agreed. "Like, why are you even still here? You had nothing to do with any of this."

"Hey! I work here too, okay?" Grace shot back. "I have every right to stay as long as I want."

“So,” you turned to Folio, disregarding the bickering between the punk guy and your friend, or whoever Grace was to you, “what do you think I should do?”

"Go to him," Folio urged. "Talk things through. Please. I can’t keep watching him like this. I don’t think he’s showered in two weeks."

Grace wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "If I hadn’t helped Jason, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, that’s how things played out," you replied. "And there’s no turning back."

"But things can still be fixed if you both put aside your fears and have a real conversation," Grace encouraged.

Folio leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. "Exactly. It might not be easy, but if you want to fix things, this is where it starts."

"I’m not sure he wants to talk to me," you said, your voice uncertain as you stared down at the table, trying to sort through your swirling thoughts.

Grace looked at you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward onto the table. "We know he loves you, and you love him. And it’s so obvious you both are suffering now! If you go to him and tell him everything was part of Jason’s plan, and that his weird friend here explained how things really went down, he’ll listen. I promise you!"

Rick shook his head, smirking but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Hey, weird friend to who, Barbie with black hair?"

Grace just rolled her eyes.

Folio sighed, but his voice grew more serious. "Look, trust me. Go to him, tomorrow. It’s been two weeks, and he’s starting to realize he let you go just because he was too scared. You can’t just sit around waiting for him to make the first move because he won't. He's in a depressive mood right now."

A silence fell for a moment as you thought about their words. Folio's eyes were sincere, and for a brief second, it felt like there was still a chance to fix things. You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling over you.

Finally, you nodded. "Okay," you said softly, "I’ll do it."

After Grace and Folio left, you and Rick stood outside the café, the cool evening air pressing against you as the sunset faded into the night. The streets were quieter now, the hum of the city barely reaching you.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. "I… I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I know you probably hate me right now for helping Jason, for being his friend. I know what I did was wrong. But he was the only friend I ever had, you know? And I just... I always did what he asked, because I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I kept helping him, I’d prove I was a good friend. But looking at it now, I see I was just blinded by that need to belong. I'm so fucking stupid."

You were silent for a moment, taking in what he said. It didn’t make you angry. Instead, a sense of understanding washed over you. You shook your head gently. "I’m not mad at you, Rick," you said softly. "I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just... you need better friends. Friends who aren’t going to pull you into things like this. Friends who won’t take advantage of your loyalty."

Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted, but there was still a trace of guilt on his face. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he muttered.

"You don’t have to deserve it," you replied with a small smile. "People make mistakes. What matters is what we do after." You paused for a moment, thinking carefully about the next words you wanted to say. "You can come see me, us, at the café anytime. If you ever need to talk, or just... hang out. I'm sure Noah would like you too, you know? You punched Jason, after all."

He looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, as if your words were a relief he hadn’t expected. "Thanks. Really. I know I messed up, but I’m done following Jason. I’ve made my choice."

You nodded. "I’m glad to hear that."

Rick smiled, though it was a little uncertain at first. "I’ll come by sometime."

As you both turned to leave, you gave Rick one last look. "Thanks again, Rick. Take care."

And with that, you parted ways, but not with the same weight on your shoulders you had carried earlier. Things could get better—for both of you.

Noah sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, trying his best to smile as he tickled Luna, her giggles filling the air. It was a soft sound, the kind of laughter that once brought him a sense of peace, but now it felt like a distant memory.

He tried to focus on her, on her innocent joy, but the weight of everything pressing on him still felt unbearable. He could hardly summon the energy to keep up with her playful energy.

"Daddy! Knights don’t tickle princesses!” she said, holding up a finger as if to emphasize her point as she laughed.

"Oh really? So why am I doing that now?"

"Because you are a bad knight, daddy!"

Noah let go and finally dropped his hands to his sides, letting the kid breathe.

Luna, her tiny hands gripping his arm as she attempted to climb onto his lap, paused for a moment and looked at him with her big, innocent eyes. She tilted her head to one side, sensing that something was off. "Daddy," she said in her small, soft voice, "will Y/N come today?"

The question hit Noah like a punch to the stomach. He froze for a second, trying to think, his chest tightening as his mind raced for an answer. How could he explain this to her? How could he possibly tell his three-year-old daughter that the woman who had been a constant presence in their lives, the woman he had loved, was gone and might never return?

He forced a smile as he moved some strands of hair from her little chubby face, but it felt hollow. "No, sweetie," he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. "Y/N won't be coming here for a while."

Luna’s face fell for a moment, and Noah’s heart twisted at the sight. She didn’t understand, not fully. But she could already feel the absence. She blinked and then asked, her voice so innocent and hopeful, "Oh, is she on vacation?"

Noah nodded slowly, trying to hold it together. He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "She’s on vacation."

Luna seemed to accept that answer, her small face brightening again, and Noah couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was he lying to her? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Oh,” Luna said, her voice soft and wistful. “I wish I could go with her. I want to see the mountains with Y/N.”

Noah’s heart broke a little more as she spoke, the simple, innocent wish from his daughter ringing in his ears.

He looked down at her, her eyes filled with that pure, untainted hope, and he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wished things were different, wished he could turn back time and make the mess he had created disappear. But all he could do now was nod, his voice filled with emotion as he replied, “Yeah… me too.”

His gaze fell on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet Luna had made with you. She seemed so happy when she gave it to him, saying that you and she had one similar too that Noah couldn't say no. He wondered where you put yours. If it was lying forgotten at the bottom of a trash can or if he was on your wrist too and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking about you looking at it.

The pink was an extreme contrast to his tattoos in a way that made him smile and made his skin burn at the same time.

Luna didn’t seem to sense the weight of his words. Instead, she smiled brightly, her small hands gripping his shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. “Maybe when Y/N comes back, we can all go to the mountains together, Daddy. And see bears.”

Noah’s throat tightened, and he could barely choke out a laugh. "Maybe," he said quietly, his voice breaking just a little. “Maybe we can.”

That late evening, you were at home, the wind outside picking up, howling against the windows.

But then, through the noise, you heard something else—faint, almost drowned out by the gusts of wind. It was a soft whimpering sound. You froze, wondering if you’d imagined it. Another sound followed, louder this time, and it was unmistakable.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart racing. Was someone out there? You opened the door cautiously. The wind whipped around you, but you could make out something small huddling near the porch steps.

A tiny, scruffy ball of fur, sat there looking up at you. You bent down, your breath catching in your throat. A small puppy—probably only a few months old—was staring up at you with big, wide eyes, the color of dark amber. The fur on its body was matted and dirty, but you could tell that, despite its appearance, it wasn’t in horrible condition. It was skinny, too, ribs showing a bit too much through its dirty fur but it didn’t seem too malnourished.

You crouched down, reaching out cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey there, little one… where did you come from?” The puppy didn’t flinch, but tilted its head at you, studying you curiously, its little tail flicking.

“Do you have a home?” you asked again, more gently this time, hoping it could understand. It just stared at you, unblinking, before it started to shuffle forward, its paws making soft noises on the porch.

“Well, I guess you don’t have a place to go, do you?” you sighed, your heart already melting at the sight of the poor thing. The puppy continued its advance, slowly squeezing between your legs and making its way into the house. You blinked, surprised, but then a soft laugh escaped you.

“Okay, I guess you've already decided where you're going to stay,” you said with a smile, closing the door behind you. You watched the little creature wander inside.

You paused for a moment, your mind spinning with what to do next. You glanced around the small space, eyes landing on the kitchen. Your fridge. Maybe there was something you could feed it.

Opening the fridge, you found some leftover chicken, cooked and ready to go. Without hesitation, you grabbed it, placing it down on a plate for the pup. You watched as the little dog immediately pounced on the food, devouring it in a matter of seconds, the sound of its chewing filling in the silence of the house.

As the dog finished, you crouched down beside it, rubbing its back, and you finally understood the puppy was a male. “What now, little one? You just going to stay here with me?” you asked, your voice soft.

The dog responded with a loud, excited bark, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped up in front of you, as if to say “Yes, please!”

You chuckled lightly. “Guess that’s a yes,” you smiled, patting the puppy’s head.

“Alright then, you can stay with me for now.”

Without thinking twice, you picked the little thing up, holding him carefully in your arms as you carried him toward the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water, and carefully set the puppy down.

You took your time, softly scrubbing the dirt out of his brown and black fur.

Just as you were finishing up, the puppy suddenly shook his body, spraying water everywhere. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the tiny creature soaking your clothes and the bathroom floor, but you didn’t mind. The laugh felt good, like a release, like a bit of normalcy in the chaos that had surrounded you lately.

“You really know how to make a mess, huh?” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand as the dog looked up at you, his fur dripping wet and his expression utterly adorable.

After a few more moments, you helped the puppy out of the tub and wrapped it in a towel, rubbing it gently to dry it off. He seemed to enjoy the attention, snuggling into the towel as if it had finally found a safe place. You sat on the floor with him for some moments.

Then, you looked down at the tiny creature, now dry and warm, curled up on the towel beside you, his little eyes closing in contentment. “You're a good boy,” you said softly, smiling as the puppy let out a quiet yawn.

That night, he whined until you picked him up and let him sleep in the bed with you, his body pressed close to yours, keeping you almost as warm as Noah's had.

The next morning, before going to the café, you left enough food and water around for the dog before heading out, promising to think of a suitable name for him.

When you were at work, it had started raining, and when you stepped out of the coffee shop during the afternoon, it hadn't stopped yet.

The cold rain immediately soaked through your clothes as you reached your car.

The city streets were slick with water, and the dull hum of distant thunder echoed in the sky, but you barely noticed. Your mind was consumed with the need to reach Noah. You had to. You had already waited too much.

You got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Nothing. You tried again. And again. The engine sputtered but refused to start, the engine light flashing mockingly at you in the dark interior. Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath and tried once more, but the car just refused to cooperate. It was as if the universe itself had decided that this was not the night for you to see Noah, that fate was conspiring against you, and all the progress you'd just made would come crashing down.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, staring helplessly at the wheel. Frustration surged inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. The rain was pouring harder now, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

But then, in that moment of frustration, something shifted inside you. You wiped your damp face with the back of your hand and exhaled, steadying yourself. This wasn’t the end, not yet. You weren’t going to give up this easily.

Noah was waiting for you. Even if maybe he didn’t know that. You couldn’t afford to let something as trivial as a car breaking down stop you.

"Fine," you whispered to yourself, the determination in your voice solidifying. "I’ll walk."

Without another thought, you opened the door, slammed it shut, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. The streets blurred with each step you took, your soaked clothes clinging to you as you began your journey toward Noah, your mind set on one thing: You needed to see him.

The rain was hitting the ground in heavy, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets into rivers when you reached Noah's house. The sound of it pounded against your ears, drowning out everything else. You stood there, drenched to the bone, the cold water soaking through your coat and clothes, your hair was wet, dripping down and sending a chill through your neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Noah.

Nothing mattered except Noah.

The cold air pressed against your skin, your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts spinning.

You reached the front door, the familiar house looming before you, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not when everything had been shattered, and the quiet that hung between you two was almost suffocating.

Finally, you pressed the doorbell, the sound of it echoing louder in the still night than you had anticipated. The seconds felt like hours, and then, the door creaked open.

There he was, standing in the doorway, but he wasn’t the same Noah. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his face was drawn. The person you had known—the one who laughed with you late at night, the one who made you feel safe—felt distant now, a ghost of the man you had loved.

He looked at you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as the rain kept pouring all around you. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even move. You couldn't read him, it was like he was trying to keep you at arm’s length, afraid that if you got too close, you might shatter him further.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. What could you even say? How could you explain what had happened, explain how everything had fallen apart because of one man's manipulation? You knew this was your fault, too.

“Noah,” you said, voice shaky as you finally met his gaze. “I... I need to talk to you. Please.”

His expression remained overall hard, a wall that you couldn’t break through, not yet. He looked down for a moment, his jaw tightening, as if he was fighting the urge to turn away from you.

But when he looked at you, his eyes were soft, as if despite everything he couldn't look at you with anger.

"What?" he muttered, his voice strained, as if a single word was causing him physical pain.

You took a deep breath.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, I—I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it. I thought that chapter was closed, that he was a thing of the past, that I was done with him. And I was. Because I love you and I'll always love you and only you. But he wasn’t done with me. I should’ve known. And I... I was too fucking stupid to realize he never wanted to let me go. Not really. He wanted to win me back, to tear us apart, and I was blind to it."

He just stared at you, so you kept talking. Seeing him like that was absolutely breaking you.

"He asked Rick for help, a friend of his that understood he was doing something wrong and talked to me. And Rick, he... he just wanted to be a good friend. He didn’t understand. But Jason—he used Rick, manipulated him, got him to leave him drunk in front of your house, knowing that I would let him in because I am too fucking srupid and too fucking nice. He knew that you’d think I cheated on you. Knowing that you’d be hurt, that you'd doubt me, that it would rip us apart. He had everything planned. And I—I let it happen. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, until I saw the way you looked at me like I let you down like your ex. And I've never wanted that.

And now... now I’m standing here, soaked to the skin because I always forget to bring an umbrella with me and because I care about you, trying to find the right words, but there’s no easy way to explain this. No way to take back the pain I caused you. No way to undo what Jason did. But I need you to know this... I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone.

And I’m so fucking sorry for the mess I’ve made and for letting Jason ruin everything. I’m so sorry I didn’t see what Jason was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was losing you, that I was pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.

I love you more than I ever knew how to say. I love you more than anything. And I need you to know that, to believe that, because it’s the truth. You’re the only thing that matters to me and I miss you. And I miss Luna. And I miss the family we built. The three of us. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me... I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. But please, Noah, don’t let me lose you. Not like this. Not because of an asshole who thought he had power on someone else's love."

After you finished confessing, Noah looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern for a moment, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickered over your drenched form. "Why are you completely soaked?"

You couldn't help but smile softly, a little amusement tugging at the corner of your lips, despite the moment. "My car wouldn’t start," you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, almost as if it was a silly inconvenience. "So I walked."

Before you could say anything more, Noah’s expression softened even more, and without another word, he stepped forward in the rain. His lips found yours with a sudden intensity, and it was like everything else melted away. You smiled against his mouth, the taste of him so sweet, so right, that it felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

You had longed for the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his tongue dancing with yours, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around you for days.

His hair clung to his forehead as the rain soaked him through, and without thinking, you reached up to brush it aside, your fingers grazing the damp strands as you continued to kiss him, your hearts racing in sync. It was perfect. It was real. The kiss lingered, deepening, as if neither of you wanted it to end, until the air between you both ran out and you both pulled back, gasping for breath.

Noah’s hands were still on your hips, pushing you close to him.

His voice was low and vulnerable as he whispered against your lips, "I’ve dreamed of this moment for fifteen nights. I thought you hated me..I'm sorry I told you to leave. I was scared to lose you and so fucking jealous. I've never wanted you to leave. I love you.

I loved you from the first moment I walked into the café with Luna barely able to speak, when she raised her little hand to say hi. She didn't do it with anyone. But she did it with you. Maybe she also understood at that moment that you were going to be the most important person in both our lives."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth flooding back into your chest at the sound of his words. "I’ve walked in the rain for forty minutes for you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of certainty. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all."

He chuckled, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm blanket. God, you'd missed that sound so bad. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all either," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips, and then he kissed you again, softer this time, as if savoring every second, every drop of rain falling around you both.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s fiancée receives a head injury during a match resulting in amnesia. (Part 5/5) 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 🛑 Warnings: Oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v, dirty talk, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations at the end of the story. 🖤 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here!  🖤 MASTERLIST

DAY FIVE — CHRISTMAS DAY

You stretched—the kind of stretch one takes after a satisfying evening followed by much needed restful sleep—smile slowly creeping across your lips. Still half-asleep, you rolled over, attracted to warmth and comfort, and you felt a rather large hand slide from where it had been resting on your belly to your side as you moved into the new position. Your head rested on a firm bicep, and you smelled deodorant and the aroma of Damian, and you remembered what he’d done for you the night before, triggering your need to again be as close as possible to him.

“You gonna sleep all day, sweetheart?” Damian softly asked. You nodded, eyes closed, and Damian’s smile widened. His thumb caressed near the bottom of your ribs. “But it’s Christmas.”

He meant well, you knew that, but as you’d fallen asleep on Christmas Eve, after Damian had made you cum with his fingers, you’d considered the holiday. It didn’t mean much to you, if anything. You weren’t looking forward to spending time with family and friends because you couldn’t remember any of them, you felt no excitement to open presents or watch Damian open his because you didn’t know if any of them would bear any meaning for you. 

“Bah-humbug,” you rasped, pressing your face into Damian’s warm chest. His chuckle rumbled against you as his hand slowly slid from your side to your back. Now you most certainly did not want to get out of bed. Maybe you could convince him to use his fingers ag—

“Grumble, grumble, complain,” he growled, teasing you, and you smiled, nuzzling your forehead into a faded tattoo. “Come on.” He tenderly patted your back. “I think Santa came last night.”

“That makes two of us,” you mumbled.

One of your eyes popped open as Damian guffawed, untangling himself from you, rolling over, and he sat up, tossing his legs over the side of the bed. He’d donned a pair of red boxer briefs sprinkled with tiny Christmas trees on them before he’d fallen asleep last night, and you snickered as you watched him stand. The giggle died on your lips, though, when he stretched, every toned muscle rippling throughout his perfect body, tattoos dancing, and you thought again about asking, or at least implying, that the two of you stay in bed and make out, and oh, by the way, would you wanna—

“You were a very good girl this year, mi vida,” Damian said, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts he’d hung over the back of a decorative chair the night before. He turned back to you and placed his fists on the bed beside you, the mattress sinking as he leaned closer to you. “I think you really wanna see what Santa brought you.”

Sighing, you tossed the covers aside and sat up yourself, realizing Damian wasn’t going to let you stay in bed any longer. Standing, you waited—watching closely—as Damian pulled his unruly hair into a high bun before he turned to you and extended his hand. You looked at his hand, imagining that middle finger pumping inside you and the thumb on your clit, and you had an inclination to just jump on his hand and see if his fingers landed inside you, but reason prevailed, and you were able to stop yourself just short of liftoff. Instead, you placed your tiny hand within his, his fingers wrapping around yours, and his smile was so sweet and happy and utterly contagious.

Damian led you downstairs to the living room, kissing the back of your hand before instructing you to take a seat on the plush couch. So many colorful and glittering gifts were under the tree, and you were relieved when Damian only grabbed a few—the rest of the gifts were for various family and friends. As nervous as you were to open the presents from Damian—what if the old you would have liked what he got you, but the new you didn’t?—you were even more nervous you might have to be present to distribute those gifts to people you didn’t know. Setting three boxes at your feet, he set the same amount at his, and you assumed the number had been agreed upon by the both of you before you’d gone shopping. Maybe you’d done it every year. 

“Is there a certain order …?” you asked. He handed you the biggest box first, and instructed you to open yours, then he would open one of his.

Taking a deep breath, you gently ripped at the impressively wrapped gift, glancing anxiously at Damian, and he tilted his head, smiling. He laid a long arm across the back of the couch, his hand heavy, yet gentle, on your shoulder, and his touch was both comforting and … knowing? You suddenly felt confused, but alert, like you were so close to remembering something important, but you couldn’t find it in your scattered brain. Choosing to ignore it, you removed the paper, and opened the box to find a Louis Vuitton tote. Eyes widening, you pulled the bag from the box, inspected it a moment front and back, and then looked back at Damian. 

“I love it,” you whispered, incredulous. 

Damian exhaled, eyes closing for the briefest moment, but he quickly recovered, shining that winning smile. “Good,” he replied, squeezing your shoulder. “You told me which one you wanted, but not which color …” 

“It’s perfect.”

Holding the bag to your chest like someone might steal it from you, you watched as Damian picked up one of his boxes, thankfully not asking you which one he should open first. He tore into the snowman wrapping paper like an ape, tossed the trash behind him, and the Nike logo on the box pretty much gave away what was inside. He pulled one shoe out, marveling at it, and gushed about how much he loved them and couldn’t believe you’d been able to locate them. You shrugged, having no answer, but his excitement was just as contagious as his smile, and you giggled as he fist pumped while putting the shoe back in the box.

Damian handed you the next gift—a pair of black heels from Jimmy Choo—which you also loved. Damian opened a rather fancy watch that he seemed overly excited about—like Randy from A Christmas Story when he got a Zeppelin—but you giggled at his childlike wonder. The last present he gave to you was much smaller than the rest, so you treated it more delicately than you had the others. This time, Damian opened his final gift as you opened yours, but he was paying far more attention to you and your reaction to what he’d gotten for you. The removal of the wrapping paper revealed a deep blue velvet box, and you suspected jewelry would be hidden within, and that gave you pause. You’d loved the other gifts, so you weren’t worried about loving this one just as much, but would you react the way Damian was hoping for? You lifted the lid, gasping at the gorgeous bracelet nestled amongst satin the same color as the box. You touched the single, tiny charm, smiling, and you weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but you brought the golden bow and arrow—the tip of the arrow a sparkling diamond—to your lips. 

“Can I put it on you?” Damian asked, disrupting your love affair with your new piece of jewelry. You sniffed, eyes becoming misty as you nodded and handed the box to him. He set aside some sort of combat weapon you’d gotten for him and clasped the beautiful bracelet around your wrist before kissing your pulse point. 

“It’s … it’s really beautiful,” you stammered. You fingered the charm, watching the diamond sparkle.

You turned your hand this way and that, grinning as the light caught the bracelet at different angles. Your brows came together, wrist rotation slowing as you stared at the back of your left hand. Something was missing. Something important. “Aren’t we engaged?” you asked, looking at Damian.

His eyes lifted, wide with sudden worry. “Of course,” he said. Why would she suddenly be doubting they were engaged, he wondered, heart pounding. “You’ve got your dress, we have a venue and about three hundred people coming …” 

“Where’s my engagement ring?” you interrupted. Damian’s mouth clamped shut, pillowy lips rubbing together. “I can’t remember you or our relationship, but I’ve learned enough to know you’d never propose without a ring, and even if you did, I’d have one by now … right?” 

Damian smiled, nodding. “You’re right,” he said. “You have a ring. I’ll be right back.” He hopped over the back of the couch, and you giggled. You turned the bracelet over again to watch the little bow and arrow dangle and the tiny diamond catch the sun as it peeked through the curtains. When Damian returned, he was carrying a small, teal box, and anyone who had ever shopped for engagement rings knew the Tiffany’s teal. You gulped. “I didn’t want to bring it up so you wouldn’t feel obligated to wear it if you weren’t comfortable with it.”

He looked at you a moment, approaching you still seated on the couch, and your breath hitched as he descended to one knee. He opened the box, having never guessed in a million years he would get to present you with the engagement ring you’d adored so much a second time, and your eyes rounded at, not only the size of the diamond, but it was your favorite cut, your favorite metal, and your favorite person was offering it to you. Favorite person? Suddenly you couldn’t catch your breath. Something was there, right there in your fucking brain, and you almost had it. 

“Put it on me,” you whispered, words laced with desperation.

Damian’s brows furrowed, but he did as he was told—removing the ring from its velvety home, taking your hand in his, and he slid the diamond effortlessly into place where it hugged your finger, almost as if it had missed you. You smiled, touching it, remembering Damian stuttering through a proposal on the beach in Puerto Rico.

Wait.

The fight you’d had on the way back to the hotel about how fast he’d been driving.

Your eyes closed.

The fight only led to him pulling over and fucking the complaining out of you on the side of the road.

You sucked in a breath.

“Your tattoo is stupid.” 

“Your tattoo is stupider.” 

“Mine’s actually the best.” 

“Yeah, well, mine’s the prettiest.”

The wedding dress you’d chosen clung to your curves perfectly, the train sparkled, the veil tucked into your hair. Damian’s gonna love this … especially when he finds out I’m not wearing any panties.

Damian.

Damian.

Your eyes shot open, and Damian was there, watching you curiously. Your fiancé. Damian Priest. You remembered when and where you met, you remembered your first date and your first fuck and your first fight and your first Christmas, and fuck, you remembered everything! All of it! 

“Damian,” you whispered, grabbing at his hands, his arms, shoulders, until you came to the floor on your knees. Damian tried catching you, unsure of what was happening or how to react. You cupped his face. “Papi.”

Damian’s body twitched as he eyed you closely. His hands came up to your face next, your noses grazing. “Oh, my God,” he whispered, every bit on the verge of tears as you were. “Querida.” You nodded, because you knew what it meant, and you knew what it meant when he said it. His arms suddenly came tightly around your waist, nearly squeezing the life out of you, and you did the same to his neck. “Fuck, you know I can’t ever let you go now, right?” he asked, only half teasing. 

You sniffed, a single tear streaking down your cheek, nodding. Memories were still playing one after another, your brain taking each one and filing it in its appropriate cabinet, which were mostly labeled never fucking forgot any of this ever again. “Sounds good to me,” you said, and then you felt him tuck his face into your neck, his hot breath ghosting along your skin, and your nipples were suddenly small pebbles, and your heart skipped a beat or two and— 

Damian pushed you away with both hands on your face so his lips could claim yours. The kissing from the night before had been hot, but this kiss was a goddamn atomic bomb, because you remembered the love you had for this man, felt it to your core, and you were suddenly dizzy and just a little lightheaded. It was like falling in love with Damian Priest all over again, like being on a rollercoaster that was only corkscrews, like debuting to a thunderous pop on the main roster of the WWE.

Damian whispered your name, pausing the kiss only to declare, “I need you.” His hands slid teasingly from your cheeks to your neck, shoulders, arms, landing heavily on your hips. “If it’s not the right time—” 

“It is,” you interrupted, lifting your shirt over your head, dropping it dramatically beside the two of you—Damian’s eyes followed the garment with an arched eyebrow before he slid his gaze to your bare breasts, tilting his head, inhaling deeply. He removed his own shirt, your eyes examining him much the same way he’d done you, and you gasped when he suddenly stood, towering over you a hell of a lot more than he normally did. You grinned, reaching for the waistband of his shorts, but he had other plans. 

He grabbed one of your arms, hooking it around his neck, and he hoisted you gracefully off the floor and over his shoulder. He smacked your ass, the bottoms of your cheeks hanging out of the shorts you’d slept in, and you squealed, kicking your legs. “We are not having reunion sex on the floor in the living room,” he said, carrying you effortlessly up the stairs, even taking two at a time, as he made his way to the bedroom you shared. You hadn’t actually planned on fucking him on the floor—there was a comfortable couch nearby with cushions the width of a twin bed—but you let him manhandle you because it had been, what, five days since you’d been manhandled? The manual stimulation the night before hadn’t counted, not with how caring and slow and intentional Damian had been.

You were tossed on the bed, bouncing, snickering, and Damian stole several moments to watch you smile, to watch your tits jiggle, massaging a growing lump in his shorts. Your eyes became slits, focused on Damian’s big hand passing over his even bigger cock, witnessing it grow and strain, almost able to feel it stretching you and filling you and satisfying you like no man had ever done before. Dying to join in, you removed your shorts and panties, though you kept your legs mostly together even as you slipped a few fingers within your dampening folds, Damian only able to get a peek of the action. The fingers of Damian’s free hand grazed your knee, his thumb on the inside applying gentle pressure, and you spread your legs for him, biting your lip, cheeks heating up as he watched you touch yourself—one of his very favorite pastimes. 

“Can I taste you?” he rumbled, thumb caressing your skin, hand slipping within his shorts and briefs, eyes briefly closing when he wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving it a few satisfying strokes. He wasn’t sure why he asked, especially since you’d always told him it didn’t matter what you were doing—if he wanted a snack, you would always be more than happy to oblige. But what if now wasn’t the time for the … normal sex? What if you weren’t ready, and the awkwardness from the night prior happened again? He didn’t want you to think he’d simply been waiting for you to remember who you were and who he was simply so he could fuck you stupid. Would you ever think that? And why the hell was he overthinking so much? 

Your brows furrowed. “Of course,” you softly replied, sliding back on the mattress as Damian crawled forward. “And if I ever say no, take me back to the hospital because my brain is broken again.”

Damian chuckled, continuing to crawl up your body, pressing his full, perfect lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, but something felt different, off. Any other time, not only would he not have asked permission, his face would have been buried in your pussy before you even knew what was happening, not making a beeline for a makeout session.

Disconnecting your lips, you placed a hand on his cheek, and your eyes met. “Are you okay?” you whispered.

“Yeah, I just …” he trailed off, positive that any explanation he gave about his sudden apprehension would make no sense at all, or worse … give you the impression that he didn’t want to have sex at all.

You tilted his chin up, an action he’d done to you many times, and when his eyes met yours, you were punched in the gut by the turmoil—he was confused, hesitant, turned on, and utterly at the mercy of his own negative thoughts. Placing a hand on his warm, bare chest, over his heart, you found the organ beating so fast it was vibrating. Smiling softly, you pressed a tender kiss to Damian’s lips, but it did nothing to slow his heart rate, though you weren’t sure it would have under any other circumstances—you made his heart pound on the regular, he’d told you, and you remembered him telling you. Like you suddenly remembered everything your fiancé had done for you (and because of you—he still had a meeting with WWE about pushing the guy at the airport) up until this point. He’d cared for you, he’d been so patient and understanding, all the while no doubt worrying about whether or not you’d ever remember him. You couldn’t imagine the stress he must have been under. How much had he actually slept in the past five days?

Your smile grew as you kissed his cheeks, his eyes, forehead, nose, and you felt him relax. “I know what you need,” you whispered. You pressed on his chest, and after a moment, he understood and rolled onto his back. “You can taste me this way,” you said, hushed, sliding along the sheets and blankets until your head was facing his feet. “Because I think it’s only fair I get a taste of my own.” He wouldn’t have allowed you to do what you really wanted to do, which was to have him lay back and enjoy a long, slow, wet blowjob, and then you would swallow what would have to be a huge load—unless he’d found the time and desire to jerk off in the last five days. Maybe he did last night, after he made me cum and after I fell asleep?—which would be followed by a Christmas morning nap. Well, you supposed he might have agreed to you swallowing, as well as the nap, but certainly not the part where he was the only one receiving pleasure. Jesus, why were you overthinking this?

“You gonna sit on my face or not?” Damian wanted to know, instantly snapping you from your reverie. Giggling and blushing—blushing because, even though you’d been in this position hundreds of times, you still felt just a twinge of embarrassment, of insecurity, every time—you straddled your fiancé’s face, eyes fluttering as he kissed your thighs, the stubble from his beard causing your entire body to quake. And then his tongue was exactly where it belonged: licking along your bare folds before slipping between them, flattening, and you threw your head back as he did things to your pussy no one else had ever been able to do. He smacked your ass, not nearly as hard as he was known to, but you smirked and squeaked just the same, using one hand to untie his shorts, tug them loose and down, and you pulled his thick cock free from the Christmas tree briefs. You spit on the head, and Damian grunted, sucking and nibbling on your clit like it was his final meal as you spread your saliva along his shaft with a few quick strokes before engulfing the head in your hot mouth.

Damian kept one hand on the back of your head, merely encouraging, until you intentionally gagged yourself, forcing his dick as far down your throat as you could, coughing, spluttering, barely able to come up for air before he pushed your face back down again. As you fought for sweet oxygen, Damian’s other hand squeezed your ass, shoving his tongue into your gushing, pulsing hole. Your face hot, tears streaking your cheeks, your fiancé’s cock lodged in your neck, your hips still rolled, pressing down, riding Damian’s face much the same way he was doing yours. 

Suddenly he lifted your hips with one hand, the other grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you off his dick. Strings of spit and precum and drool bridged your lips to Damian’s rigid cock, and you worked on disconnecting the mess and wiping at your face as he maneuvered you off him. “Ain’t no way I’m not cummin’ in that pussy,” he growled.

Before he could manhandle you once again into whatever position he desired, you spun around and straddled his hips, flattening your palms on his chest. He was a bit shocked, and rightly so, as up until this point, he’d been the dominant one in the relationship. And this wasn’t you being necessarily dominant—you were simply being proactive in making sure Damian did as little work as possible. He held onto your wrists as you raised your hips, rocking your clit along his head before slowly descending, allowing yourself only seconds to adjust to his size. Maybe a perk from all this would be your pussy having had an opportunity to tighten up without its daily pounding from a very proportionate six foot five Puerto Rican man. 

“Fuck,” Damian shouted, and you grinned, though you’d never know if your hypothesis had been correct or if he’d just really missed being inside you.

”Little gatita missed her Papi,” you purred, enunciating the Spanish words, biting your lip, eyes fluttering as you swiveled your hips to get every last bit of him inside you.

Damian pressed his head into the pillow, hips thrusting, lifting you as if you weighed nothing, somehow going deeper, kissing your cervix, and your nails dug into his pecs. “Come on, querida,” he said, and you knew he would never agree or admit to it, but it sure sounded a hell of a lot like begging. “Ride Papi.”

Transferring most of your weight to your hands on his chest, your hips bounced, jaw dropped, and you did exactly as you’d been instructed. Sweat was beading around your hairline at the back of your neck, your lungs were tight from your labored breathing, but you could feel that familiar, delicious ache deep in your cunt. You watched Damian with a small grin, biting your lip, as his blown pupils were laser focused on your pussy and the glistening trail it left behind every time you lifted your hips. His brows were knitted together, lips pursed, and you actually had to fight the laughter bubbling in your throat at how utterly determined he was not to cum. He wanted to impress you with his stamina and willpower, you knew that much, and you suspected he was probably savoring the moment, making it last as long as possible. Maybe next time, you thought. You’ve waited long enough. 

“You gonna gimme me that nut, Papi?” you panted.

His eyes rose to yours, and you were no longer in control of the fucking, your entire body jolting with each pump of Damian’s cock. “That what you want?” he grunted. 

“Fuck yeah,” you breathed, eyes closing, that ache getting stronger, spreading further. “It’s been too long. I need your cum inside me.” 

“Been too long,” he mocked breathlessly. “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full …” 

“Give it to me, Papi,” you begged, cunt squeezing Damian’s pulsing cock as you gushed all over it. “I want all of it.”

Your fiancé made good on his promise—unloading so much inside your pussy that it started leaking out before he’d even pulled out. Hand on the back of your head, he pulled you down for a kiss, massaging his lips along yours in that delightful Damian way. “I love you so much,” he mumbled against your mouth. 

“I love you more,” you grinned, pulling away enough so you could look at each other comfortably. “It should take, what, five minutes for you to be ready for round two?” 

“Five minutes,” Damian chuckled, shaking his head, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, if it helps at all, I’m gonna go try on my heels.” You carefully raised yourself off Damian, his half-hard cock smacking his abdomen lewdly once your pussy released it, and you crawled out of bed. 

“Just naked? You’re just gonna try the heels on naked?” Damian asked after you. 

“Kind of,” you replied, glancing at him over your bare shoulder. “I’ll be wearing your cum.”

Damian’s eyes darkened. “It’s like that?”

You winked, continuing out of the bedroom, a millisecond passing before you heard Damian’s heavy footsteps following quickly behind.

** mi vida - my life ** Papi - daddy ** querida - beloved/term of endearment ** gatita - kitten

[cravinganotherworld]

PART 1 : https://www.tumblr.com/cravinganotherworld/772151896142233600/amorous-squid-games-frontman-x-fem-reader?source=share

Amorous - Chapter 2, part 1. Frontman x Fem! reader.

The second game commences and your fear overtakes you, you feel hopeless and defeated but there is still a flicker of hope.

WARNINGS: Death, shooting, guns, swearing, mild mention of arousal, Young il talking down to himself.

NOTES: This chapter will be in 2 parts, in the next part there will be more interactions with Young il. Its a slow burn kind of story:)

Wordcount - 2.4k

Before now you had never struggled to get to sleep, being here with strangers made you feel uneasy and staring at the bunk above you didn’t help. Huffing lightly you get to your feet and try and direct yourself through the dark. You thought that maybe a bathroom break would help. Struggling to see apart from the bright ‘X’ and ‘O’ on the floor you bumped into someone. Gasping lightly you go to apologise but they began to shout before you could.

“Ay watch where you’re going senorita damn” His voice was loud waking up many other players in the process. Your cheeks began to heat up as you feel the stares of those around you.

“I-I’m sorry it’s dark I couldn’t see I –“

“I’m sorry its dark I couldn’t see blah blah” The man mocked you making a crying face as he did so. Suddenly his face dropped and he stalked towards you. He roughly grabs your hair and pulls your head back. “Maybe you should open your eyes pretty girl, next time it won’t be so –“

“Let her go” a voice behind you speaks up, it was authoritive and strict and for some reason caused an ache in your stomach you had not felt before. Thanos moved his eyes from you glancing behind you and a smirk crept up to his lips.

“What’re you going to do Gramps? Beat me with your walking stick?” He laughed and turned his head to his friend who also began laughing.

“That’s no way to treat a lady” the voice once again spoke up.

“Oh yeah” Thanos’s grip on your hair tightened and he spun you around to face the stranger. You yelp in pain and tears once again well up in your eyes. You look up softly at the man trying to help you to see that he was already looking at you. Your eyes met and for a moment it seemed as though everything stopped. “What-“ Thanos steps forward forcing you closer to the man, his eyes leaving yours to look at Thanos. “are you – “ he steps you forward once again. “Gonna do” Thanos stops now leaving barely any room between you and the Player infront of you and smirks tilting his head to the side. When the player infront of you said nothing Thanos rolls his eyes and laughs. “That’s what I thought grandad” He leans down to your ear and whispers still looking into the players eyes. “You won’t be so lucky next time pretty girl” Your stomach churns as he lets go of your hair and pushes you towards the Player before turning around to walk away. You land in the players arms, your hands on their chest and you look up ready to apologise but see him already looking down at you, you recognized him as player 001. His grip loosened as he let go of your arms, gently moving you to the side and began to walk towards Thanos.

“Hey” he shouts out. You watch as Thanos turns around, with a smirk on his face.

“C’mon gramps, shows over” Before you could blink, Player 001’s fist connected with Thanos’s stomach making him fall back. He bent over clutching his stomach in pain, looking towards his friend who was now moving towards player 001. With ease player 001 put both Thanos and his friend on the floor, his hand wrapped around Thanos’s throat and hand in the air ready to punch. Under his hold you see Thanos gasping for air but to your surprise you felt nothing. No sadness or guilt. Lost in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed player 001 retreat and walk back over to you. He gently brought you out of your dream state by placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?” he questions looking down at you with concern in his eyes. It took you a while to comprehend what he had asked but once you do you nod your head gently and smile.

“Yes…thank you for helping me, I’m not sure what I would’ve done” you confessed looking down at your shoes. He gently places a hand under your chin lifting your head up to once again meet his gaze.

“You don’t need to thank me, just stay safe okay?” he asks causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. His hand leaves your chin residing once more at his side as he walks past you, returning to his own bed. You look around the room seeing everyone’s eyes on you as you walk back to your bed, the need for the bathroom no longer a thought in your mind.

 You had stayed awake for the rest of the night, hearing the shuffling from the lady next to you and the soft snores of the player above you was enough to keep you up, if it weren’t for the images infiltrating your mind. As the hours passed by you grew more and more tired but your mind wouldn’t let you rest, your stomach churning and the flashbacks of red light green light, dreading what was to come. Soon enough the lights flickered on and the same song that awoke you yesterday played through the speakers. The large metal doors clanged open, and the guards began to flood in.

“Please prepare for the second game” Your heart dropped but you followed the other players to the games arena. As you all made your way into the arena you see two large rainbow circles on the floor. Your mind began to race what game could this possibly be? Your thoughts are soon interrupted as the rules of the game are introduced.

“To play this game you must be in groups of 5, there will be 5 games to play as you make your way around the circle, your legs with be locked in with another players, you will have 5 minutes to complete the game and 10 minutes to form a team. Your 10 minutes begin now”

Fuck, you think to yourself. I don’t know anyone. You begin to weave through the people already creating teams trying to find somewhere you can fit in. You could hear the timer ticking away in the background, everyone now appearing to be in a team. You begin to lose hope as you walk further through the crowd, there must be someone who doesn’t have a team. As the timer reached its final minute you begin to panic, you need a team or this is it…the end of the line. You stand still in your place frantically looking around when your eyes land on a familiar face. Player 001 was walking towards you. You breath a sigh of relief when he reaches you.

“Do you have a team?” You shake your head and before you can say anything he grabs your hand pulling you along with him to his team. When you reach them you see player 456 and offer him a small smile, he returns one before speaking to the team.

“There are 5 games to play Ddakji, biseokchigi, gong-gi, jegi, and spinning top, which does anyone feel most confident in?”

“I can do Ddakji” a small voice speaks up. It is player 222.

“I can do spinning top” Player 001 speaks.

“I am confident in Jegi, as the only other female player, would you like to play gong-gi?” Your stomach sinks at the question, Gong-gi was the only game growing up that you never played.

“Well i-“

“If I may, I am very confident at Gong-gi, I played with my sisters all the time growing up” You looked up in surprise at player 388 and nodded slowly.

“That leaves biseokchigi, think you’ll be okay with that?” Player 001 asks.

“I think so, I’m pretty good at knocking things over” the group gave a small laugh before you spoke again. “Before we start, I don’t know any of your names…could we all be introduced?”

“Of course, I am Gi-Hun” Player 456 starts

“Jun-Hee” the girl besides you speaks.

“Dae-ho” player 388 bows his head as he speaks his name. your head turns to the final player, player 001.

“Young Il” He smiles gently looking down at you. “And yours?”

“Oh of course, it’s (y/n)” you look around at your group happy that you finally knew their names when your eyes fall to Young Il. His attention was elsewhere, concentrated on what Gi-Hun was saying. As you watched him you noticed his dimples appear when he smiled, and the way his hair falls, he is like a work of art. Feeling your eyes on him, Young Il turns his head towards you, his eyes soft as he tilts his head to the side offering you a gentle smile. A deep blush creeps up onto your face, and you look away, following the other players as you sit an await your turn.

The more teams that played the more bodies fell to the floor. You watched as guards mercilessly shoot, clutching your jacket in your hand and the sounds ring out and closing your eyes tightly not wanting to witness the ruthless bloodshed. Behind you Young Il pays close attention to how you react, a sense of guilt and worry washing over him. He cannot reach you as Dae-Ho sits between you but all he wants to do is hold you in his arms and shield you from the pain. Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t see the rest of his group stand up and walk towards the starting line.

 Shakily you take a breath as the guard clasps both locks on both legs shut and walks away signalling the game is about to begin and you look up towards Young Il, his gaze already on you.

“We can do this, I have faith” he speaks to the team and you all nod in agreement. “besides” he turns to look at Gi-Hun, “we have a previous winner with us”. With that the Square guard shoots his gun into the air and you all begin to walk in sync.

“left right left right left right” you all repeated together until you reached the first game. In one move Jun-Hee flips the red card over earning a yell of victory from you all and you once again link arms and continue on the path.

“left right left right left right” you reach your game and a sense of defeat washes over you. You can’t do this, your hands are shaking too much. The guard moves infront of you and hands you a stone, you had to do this you couldn’t condone the rest of the team to death. Closing your eyes you take a breath and throw the rock towards the other stone, missing. Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at the guard, they form an X over their chest and shout ‘failed’. Fuck

“Hey hey it’s okay, we’ll just go and get it and try again” Gi-Hun speaks up. Nodding away the tears forming in your eyes you link arms with Jun-Hee and Dae-ho and walk forward in sync with the team. You lean down to pick up the stone and you all begin walking backwards. Ensuring your feet are behind the line you throw the stone again, it landing just infront of the other. Once again you had failed.

“We still have time you’re okay” you all move forward to collect the rock and return to your place behind the line. Before you take your next throw a voice fills the air.

“Hey, look at me” You look up seeing Young Il looking at you, concern in his eyes. “you can do this, we have faith in you…I have faith in you” he offers you a small smile of encouragement and you nod your head gently at him, your gaze now returning to the stone in front of you. Gaining the courage to throw once more you take your shot. HIT. Your group erupted in cheers and tears of relief washed down your face as you all began to move forward. Dae-Ho passed his turn first try much to the groups surprise. In all your life you had never seen someone play Gong-Gi with such talent. As you reach the 4th Marker Young Il takes the spinning top from the guard and begins his turn. He misses his first try much to the team’s dismay as you had to go and collect the spinning top from ahead of you. You watch as his hands delicately wrap the rope around the spinning top, admiring how elegantly his fingers move, how his grip tightens when it began to get loose in his hands, and how he holds it ready to throw. The aching feeling in your stomach returning once again. He takes his throw but somehow it ends up behind you. Shit shit shit. Your mind begins to race not even realising you had moved in sync with the team to retrieve the spinning top and were now back in place behind the line. Young Il’s shouting brought you back into reality.

“You ruin everything you piece of shit, you’re worthless” Your heart breaks a little and you speak up.

“Hey” he turns to look at you, his hair messy and his breaths deep. “You can do this, we have faith in you” you take a breath, lowering your voice as you look into his eyes. “I have faith in you” repeating his words back to him that he had previously said to you. You watch as he gulps and nods his head towards you, hurriedly going back to wrapping the rope around the spinning top. You watch as he throws it landing perfectly spinning on its tip. You all erupted into cheers, relief washing over you all before continuing to the last game. With relief Gi-Hun completes the game with mere seconds to spare. You all rush towards the finish line crossing just as the time hit 0. You collapse to your knees taking in deep breaths as your chest tightens. You did it, you survived. Gun shot echoed through the hall forcing you to hold your hands over your ears and close your eyes tightly. Soon enough the shooting stopped but you don’t move, scared of what would happen. You feel a hand on your arm pulling you up and onto your feet. You look up to see Gi-Hun.

“We did it, we made it” he looks at you, giving you a reassuring smile before following the guards out of the hall. You follow behind him returning to the dormitory.

[lokisprettygirl]

Right Person, Right Time (Modern Daemon x Female Reader) (18+) (Non Canon Au)

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

Summary : Daemon takes you to his bed, in the way you wanted and didn't want at the same time.

Warning: 18+ , Mention of infidelity, death, smut in later chapters, reader has self deprecating attitude

If it was possible to die from embarrassment, you would have been dead by now, perhaps you were overreacting because it has been barely 5 seconds since you had uttered those god awful words --

“Good take me to your bed then.. i don't want to be alone tonight "

Yeah you did that and the man next to you, the man that you had the audacity to insult just a few moments ago, the man whose last name wasn't something you had bothered to ask, the man who had heard you very clearly just now and had gone completely quiet on you, so quiet that you could hear your heartbeat.

He was not even giving you a moment of grace towards your undignified manner, you'd have preferred to hear a sharp no instead of the awkward silence that had clouded the compact space of the elevator and it was suffocating you... suffocating - 

And Thank Goodness your floor had arrived.

Now all you had to do was move out of this building and never see him again. Perhaps get out of the city and then the country while you were onto that.

As you were about to step out, his arm came in front of you and he pressed the close door button so you looked up at his face. God he was close, too close, you could smell him and he didn't smell awful. On the contrary, he smelled fucking fantastic but then his manly scent reminded you of Marco and you wanted to disappear again.

“That's not my floor lady” He said to you so you gulped in response, his mouth curved into a smile before he stepped away from you.

“So you heard me huh?” you asked as you crossed your arms.

“You were too loud and too clear” you huffed internally as he responded in that smug manner.

You could just say no right, though you asked for it, there was still time to get out of this situation, why get him involved in your tangled mess of a life? 

You wanted to say something but as you watched the elevator moving up you didn't really say anything, you didn't want to go back to your apartment. Too many memories, too many imprints of Marco over there. You had to survive the night somehow and you found yourself unable to do it all alone. He had made you so weak and so non fucntional.

“Ummm don't take this the wrong way but what I said just now- ” you chuckled to hide your embarrassment so he raised his brow “What I'm saying is that...I just..i ummm..i .. when I said that i –”

“Ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh” you turned your head to look at him as he shushed you, his lips formed a pout when he dragged the sound of the shushing as if he was speaking to a petulant child. Okay he had a nice set of lips, pink, and they looked soft and..well at least you weren't rebounding with some junkie hobo you thought. Not that there was anything right with this situation either.

As the elevator stopped finally at the top most floor and the door opened, you noticed another door and he stepped forward to enter the passkey, that door then opened straight into a -

“Lobby? You have a Lobby of your own?” You asked him as you followed him and looked around in wonderment, he smiled as he noticed the wide eyed look on your face. 

“Perks of the penthouse”

The lobby had a narrow corridor on the other end that lead towards the main area of the penthouse, he guided you to his supposed living room and you stared at him as he took his leather jacket off and dumped it on the couch before he unhooked the glasses from the collar of his white t-shirt and placed it on a side table, he then disappeared into one of the rooms and came back shortly after.

“You're ruining my carpet, dry yourself up” He threw the towel in your direction so you caught it swiftly before it could hit his shiny expensive carpet.

“Thanks..I guess” as you dried the dripping water from your hair you watched him strut his way behind the bar in the corner of the room, a part of you still wanted to run but then the thought of going back to the apartment and being all alone with nothing but the memories of you and Marco felt dreadful.

Two years and it meant nothing to him, you meant nothing to him, of course you didn't, you wanted to take out your phone and check if he had called or messaged but then again, every thought of yours circled back to the moment of him fucking someone else behind your back. Someone very hot and attractive.

“What's your choice of poison, love?” You heard Daemon's voice so you sighed and walked towards his couch to sit down.

“Anything would do in this moment” you answered him but had to grimace internally as he returned with two glasses of scotch on the rocks. When you said anything, you didn't mean a literal shot of gasoline. He offered you the glass so you took it and sipped on it because you had no other choice, the couch sank in as he sat down next to you so you scooted a little farther away from him..

“So ummm how do you afford all this.. generational wealth?” he smirked as you questioned him, you were so judgemental and assuming but for some reason this trait of yours didn't annoy him as much it would have if it was attached to someone else.

“Yeah, sort of, but I also work for it” he told you honestly so you chuckled in what seemed to be a very condescending manner.

“But you're home, at 5 in the afternoon?” you said to him as a matter of fact.

“I mostly work at nights..” 

“Doing..what exactly?” 

“I own businesses..clubs, bars, pubs, hotels, that sort of thing” he answered in a way that made you feel as if he was trying to sound humble about it but it didn't help his case, he was bragging and he was bragging hard.

“Anything you own that I might have heard of?” you asked him so he gave you a smile. That's what he had been waiting for.

“Dark Sister..the nightclub”

You almost spat out your drink as he said that, that stupid fucking place, that place was important to you, that's where you had met Marco for the first time, and he often took you there to unwind after a long week.

“You own that.. like the whole club?” you asked him, surprise evident in your voice. 

“No I just own one sofa in there..ofcourse i own the whole thing” 

“Ohhh ..i ..i didn't know that..i have been there..quite a few times.. never saw you there..do you even go there?” 

“All the time. There's a world outside your hot lover's arms you know? You never really got out of it did you?” you glared at him as he said that. What was this developing energy between you two?  It definitely wasn't positive to say the least but it didn't seem completely negative either. Up until this moment and for so long you two had been only nice with each other or polite would be a better suited term but this passive aggressive conversation didn't seem that way.

“Well.. He does have great arms, big.. manly arms, comforting arms…warmmmmm” your voice choked on your tears as you thought of him and as much as he despised hearing the praises of your cheating ex he understood what you were going through in the moment and he didn't want to add to your misery so he grabbed the tissue box from the coffee table and passed one to you.

“Thank you” you mumbled as you grabbed the tissue to wipe your dripping tears. Fucking Marco, he had ruined your life forever.

“Look i.. when I said I wanted you to get me into your bed-” 

And he interrupted you.

“I have a great bed, wanna see?” He spoke so you opened your mouth to say something offensive but you did want to see the bed after seeing that carpet.

“Fine..I'll see YOUR bed” you gestured to him with your fingers, air quoting the term dramatically to come across as uninterested.

As he led you towards his bedroom you looked around and sighed, you wanted to find something to complain about, perhaps messy clothes all around or dirt in the corner but it was squeaky clean thoroughly. You didn't know why you were behaving this way with him, what was this? Couldn't have been sexual tension.

And the king sized bed did look amazing, almost made you want to lie down but then the bed reminded you of Marco, everything reminded you of Marco. 

You sighed as you walked towards the bed and then turned to look at him.

“Okay let's do this ..no expectations..no promises..no attachment..no strings whatever right? It's just one night” you blinked your eyes to affirm your point so he chuckled and stepped towards you.

“You're a strange kind of woman, you know that?” he said as caressed his own chin as if he was assessing an anomaly.

“Way to compliment a woman you're about to fuck” 

“I’m not going to fuck you sweetheart..just sit down and relax” he said as he grumbled.

Okay you took that as an offense.

“Why ? Why can't you fuck me..am I so unfuckable? Would you rather fuck a hot stripper from your club or something? Would you fuck me if I was hot? Or a stripper? Or a hot stripper? What is wrong with me? Do tell me” His brows furrowed as you blabbed nonsensically. Now that you were focusing on it, his brows didn't really have.. brow hair ..his head was a different story though. Way too much hair. Thick and bushy, and curls at the bottom -

He suddenly walked towards you so you took a step back and hit the foot of the bed which made you sit down involuntarily.

“I do not own a strip club FYI, but if I did I'd hire you and you're right given the chance I'd certainly fuck this very hot, very fuckable stripper” he leaned down and placed his palms on the bed around you on as he spoke. Hazel eyes, he has hazel eyes mixed with green, you had never really noticed before.

He had a way, strange way of .. complimenting you and insulting you at the same time. So different from Marco, honey dripped from his mouth whenever he spoke to you.

“Then why won't you do it?” you asked him, your voice soft and vulnerable so he looked down for a moment and then looked right into your eyes again.

“I want to.. don't get it twisted but I’m not going to fuck a grieving woman, when I have a woman like you in my bed i like to think that I'm all she's thinking about in the moment. I'm not going to be inside you and have you wishing it was that lothario instead” he said to you before he stepped away, your eyes welled up and you didn't even try to control it this time. That lothario was the love of your life, it was just your luck that you weren't his.

“Why did you bring me here then?’ you asked him as you stood up so he crossed his arms.

“Because you didn't want to be alone.. and you're not alone right now, are you?”  he mumbled in a no nonsense tone and you didn't know what it was, it wasn't as if he had said anything profound or magical but the kindness in his tone made you break down right then, you sat down on his bed and wept as hard as you could. It was sinking in finally, you'd never find a man to love you again and you'd definitely never find anyone like Marco. 

He watched you for a moment, well a few moments before he walked towards the bed and laid down next to you, though maintaining an ample amount of distance from you. This morning when he woke up he definitely didn't imagine in his wildest thoughts that the pretty girl from his building would be crying profusely in his bed by the end of the day. A small part of him that he had killed long ago wanted to scoot closer and comfort you but he restrained himself.

No expectations, no promises, he had to live by that. For his own sake.

After what felt like hours when your sniffling died down you propped yourself on your elbows and stared at him, 

“Well ..you were right about one thing..this is a mighty good bed” he couldn't help but smile as you said that, as if you weren't bawling your eyes out just a minute ago..

“I only do the best darling” 

“Okay ummm..i.. would like to just keep my head down here and close my eyes for a moment -” 

You said to him so he immediately got up and grabbed your arms to pull yourself up as well.

“Change up first, you can't sleep in wet clothes and especially not in my bed you dummy” he said to you as if he was your father so you crossed your arms, you were just starting to find him tolerable.

“I'll just go to my apartment” you said to him so he sighed and walked towards his closet to grab a comfy tee and shorts that he hardly ever wears.

“Change and you can go” he commanded. Who did he think he was? A kind and known stranger who worried about you getting sick in your drenched clothes? Well fuck his kindness.

“I'll change when I'm home” you argued, at this point you were just arguing for the sake of it.

“No you won't..you'd collapse on your door, won't even make it to the bedroom” he argued further.

“If I change I'm sleeping in your bed ..you can find another..bed somewhere in this huge penthouse of yours” 

“Fine with me” 

You huffed as you grabbed the clothes from him and went to the bathroom to change quickly, you were glad the shirt was loose enough so he wouldn't notice that you weren't wearing your bra.

As you came out he stared at you, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“You find this funny?” 

“No..You just look so silly is all” 

“Blame your stupid clothes” 

He brought his hands up as if surrendering and accepting defeat finally so you decided to not say anything further. 

As you sat down next to him you turned your head to look at him.

“Thank you ..for the clothes and the bed and your company and everything else” you said to him as politely as you could amd you really meant it this time. He tilted his head as he noticed the hint of tears in your eyes.

He could tell you were going to be a trouble for him.

“Okay” he mumbled before he got up and walked towards the couch to lie down. 

You didn't want to be alone so he wasn't going to leave you alone. 

As your head hit the pillow and eyes closed you only saw the image of Marco fucking that hot brunette with fervent passion. It was burned in your memory now and you knew you'd never be able to unsee it no matter how much you wanted it but you could worry about that tomorrow, tonight you weren't alone so you didn't have to wallow in self pity.

“Daemon?” You called out his name so he hummed in response.

“What is your full name? I never asked -” 

You heard the sound of faint chuckling coming from him before he answered. 

“Targaryen..Daemon Targaryen” 

Targaryen.. Targaryen... Targaryen..where had you heard that name before, you had heard it somewhere and then suddenly it dawned on you.

You knew him. No that wasn't right, you knew about him.

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Note : What does she know?

Taglist @unofficialavenger90 @kimberleyneko-blog @m-riaa @anukulee @erebus-et-eigengrau @littledark11 @silhouetteofher

[ravennaortiz]

hi love! for juicy january could i request fluff prompts 18 and 32 please

love the idea for your event, so very much may be back for another request!

Thank you! Please feel free to come back for more! As Always 18+

Butterfly.

Juice was sipping his beer as he did another lap of the clubhouse. He frowned, it was unlike you to no show for a club party let alone one that signified a big deal they had made. Maybe you and your late were running late? He thought to himself. While he was relieved a bit to not have to deal with pretending he was happy about this guy you were with a bigger part of him was worried. If you were running late you would have texted or called. Maybe the guy got cold feet about meeting your family? His eyes landed on Chibs as he sat with Tig and Happy. Making his way over he figured it wouldn’t be odd to inquire.

“Lassies not coming” stated Chibs the minute Juice came into view making Tig and Happy laugh.

“I …wasn’t…” started Juice as he looked away. Cheeks warm as he took a sip of his beer. “Was just coming over to say hi and chat” he added trying to sound casual.

Chibs snorted and shared a glance with Tig. “Uh-huh. What did you want to chat about then?”

“The weather” replied Juice as he scuffed his boot on the floor. “It’s been weird”

“Like you” stated Happy quietly setting Tig over again.  Juice shot him a quick glare before turning back to Chibs.

“So why is she not coming? Car trouble? I can go get them?’ he questioned as he played with his keys. Truthfully he would rather just get you but he would be nice and pick your date up as well.

“Aye, shes got a little heartbreak and wasn’t feeling like socializing” answered Chibs as he sighed. “These young bucks just don’t know how to handle a lass”.

“Oh” replied Juice perking up. He nodded a moment before tossing his half empty beer and heading towards the door. Chibs and Tig shared another look as they watched him go.

You had just finished up changing into a pair of sweats and a SAMCRO tshirt you had stolen from Juice when you heard a knock at your door. Sighing you wiped at a couple tears that had fallen before looking through the peephole. Your heart rate sped up as your eyes fell on the guy you had had a crush on for forever. You had never acted on it because you didn’t want to make things awkward and he could have any woman he wanted. No way he would be interested in you, socially since your uncle was one of his brothers.

“Hey” you stated quietly as you opened the door.

“Hey!” greeted Juice enthusiastically as he held up a shopping bag as he stepped towards you. “I got ice cream, wine and popcorn”.

You laughed as you moved to let him enter. “You didn’t have to leave the party to bring me that” you stated as you watched him curiously as he kicked his boots off before heading to your kitchen. You had expected him to just be doing a drop off not staying.

“It’s no big deal. Club parties happen all the time. So many people there they won’t notice I’m gone” he called as he rummaged around in your drawers for your wine opener, spoons and ice cream scoop. “Besides you’re my best friend and need me.

“You cancelled your plans and are skipping the party for me?” you asked in shock as you grabbed bowls and set them in front of him as he began scooping huge chunks of ice cream into them.

“Yep” replied Juice as he glanced up at you briefly. Taking a deep breath he set the scoop down “You give me butterflies. Make me nervous and I just need to do this sorry” he stated before grabbing your face and kissing you gently.

“Don’t apologize” you replied as he pulled back before you pushed forward kissing him.

[antinousletmehit]

hi! 👋 can you pretty please write more polities x reader? He’s adorable and I would love to see more polities x reader fanfic stories maybe of him getting home and after he helps ody with the suitor problem, he runs straight to his wife, reader, who has also been waiting for him and he get done onto his knees and hugs her sobbing 😭 almost ugly crying on how sorry he is that he was gone for so long and beg for forgiveness

Or maybe of polities gets turned into a pig by Circe because he ate food with the crew even though he is a sweetheart and reader starts fawning over his adorable pig form with glasses and red bandanna

sorry so many cute short stories ideas involving polites and other characters from epic love your writing though 😍

୨୧┇pairing: Polites x reader

୨୧┇I don’t get enough requests for him ngl

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

After twenty long years, he was finally home.

He dropped his sword, the clang echoing in the silent hall, and turned to Odysseus. “My king, with your leave…” Odysseus, though weary, gave him a knowing nod. “Go to her, Polites.”

Polites didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted from the hall, his heart pounding as he ran through the familiar streets of Ithaca. The village had changed in some ways, new faces, new buildings, but his feet knew the way. They carried him to the small cottage on the outskirts of town, the one he had built with his own hands before the war.

The moment he saw the warm glow of firelight through the window, his breath hitched. You were inside. You were there.

He pushed open the door, his voice breaking as he called out, “Y/N?”

You turned from where you stood near the hearth, and the world seemed to stop. Your eyes widened, your hand flying to your mouth as you took him in. disheveled, bruised, and teary eyed, but alive. “Polites,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t trust himself to speak. He crossed the room in a heartbeat, dropping to his knees in front of you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face against you, his shoulders shaking with sobs. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You froze for a moment, stunned, before your hands came up to thread through his hair. “Polites…”

“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he cried, clinging to you like a drowning man clings to a lifeline. “I didn’t mean to—gods, I thought I’d never see you again. I thought…I thought you’d have moved on, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. I—”

“Polites,” you interrupted gently, pulling back just enough to tilt his tear streaked face up to yours. “Stop. You’re home. That’s all that matters.”

“But I left you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I left you alone for twenty years. How can you forgive me for that?” Tears welled in your eyes as you knelt down, cupping his face in your hands. “You didn’t leave by choice. You went to war to protect our home, our people. And you came back to me. That’s all I ever hoped for.”

His lip quivered as he stared at you, his brown eyes filled with so much love and regret that it nearly broke your heart. “I don’t deserve you.”You smiled softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. “You’re wrong. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Polites.”

A shaky laugh escaped him, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered. “More than anything. More than words can say.”

“I love you too,” you murmured, your own tears falling freely now.

For a long moment, the two of you simply held each other, the weight of twenty years melting away in the warmth of your embrace. Polites vowed then and there to spend the rest of his life making up for the time you’d lost, cherishing you with every breath he had left.

[violetmuses]

Don’t Go Screamin’ - R. Reigns🖤

Fandom: WWE 

Character: Roman Reigns

Love Interest: Female Reader

This Idea 💜

@episodes-ff @expert-texpert @persethegawd @adriennegabriella @fearlesschimera @secretlifeoofmarpessa @mytribalnightmare @adoresmiles @blackgurlnhermoods @babybratzmaraj @luvrsluxe 🏷

====

During this special episode of “Smackdown,” timing lined up their annual “Women's Money In Bank Ladder Match” and thousands cheered as the winner raved on screen, grateful to hold this accomplishment. 

In the middle of this deserved celebration, spotlights changed out of nowhere and music switched, thundering beats to cut off everyone. 

“Wait a minute. No! It can’t be.” Commentators scrambled through countless emotions as professionals observed behind the alert table. We’ve heard so many rumors, but it’s finally happening! She’s here. She’s cashing in!” 

Clutching the well-known briefcase, you sprinted down this large ramp and darkened both eyes, ready for war. 

“Take down the winner. Go! You have one chance here. Just go!” Announcers nearly cross-talked over and awaited your possible victory. Even fans yelped back, nearly shrieking in this place. 

“Cover. 1-2-3!” The counting bell rattled out loud and you can’t hear thoughts while falling backwards against this mat. “Holy hell! Meet our new champion, ladies and gentlemen.” 

“I’m here! Who can stop me now?” Standing up once more, you grabbed the championship belt and cheered skyward, feeling invincible.  

“Congratulations to our newest champion! Thank you so much for watching this program. Good night and we’ll return next time.” Announcers pulled one last update to end the broadcast. 

******

For another weekly episode, heroically ominous music pulled various emotions as The Tribal Chief Roman Reigns stood tall, flagged by talented cousins Jimmy and Jey Uso. “Ones” lifted up high as fans elevated greatness on live television. There’s no turning back whatsoever. 

“The Tribal Chief will always exude power..” Announcers welcomed this dynasty with each passing moment. 

Out of nowhere, lighting dropped around the ring and sneaky laughter echoed from shadows with new rhythms, cuing another entrance. 

Once lights brightened again, you appeared ringside in silence, turning everyone’s night upside down. 

“What the hell?” Announcers pulled flabbergasted expressions to heighten this upcoming moment. “Oh my. Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for chaos. She’s back!” 

Sliding into this ring once more, you watched members of The OG Bloodline, noticing when Jimmy and Jey Uso traded glances first. 

Wiseman Paul Heyman covered his mouth in shock, almost terrified that you pulled audacity this evening. 

Soon enough, Tribal Chief Roman Reigns stepped forward, prompting an outright frenzy of screams during this moment. 

Almost towering beyond height, Reigns sported this graphic t-shirt and clothed pants. Sneakers moved along once more. Styling dark hair with a bun, this greying beard welcomed his chiseled face. 

“Be careful, Champ. Roman doesn’t share spotlights.” Commentators pulled their warnings to you again. 

Nearly sizing you up, Roman bit his lip. Even Jimmy and Jey can’t believe what’s going on right now. 

“Before we get to the good stuff, do you even know who I am?” Pulling his Southern accent forward, Reigns almost chuckled through one strong and deep voice. 

“Uh-oh! Our Tribal Chief has spoken. What will you do about it, Champ?” Despite measuring Reigns, commentators still wanted you to help you out and fans offered encouragement. 

“Cat got your tongue, Sweetheart?” Teasing this moment with chances to flirt, Roman went further. 

“Don’t fall for Roman’s charm!” Announcers scrambled once more and thousands of people lost their minds. 

“I saw everything. We saw everything. Gesturing around, Roman still addressed you and this audience cheered even louder. “Last week pulled one of the biggest nights in history.” 

“That’s right. She’s the champion!” Commentary pulled another chance to scope your newest title. 

“Remember that I’m The Tribal Chief.” Roman almost lowered his voice. “Join us.” 

The crowd gasped, waiting for your response. 

“No.” You stood your ground, declining. 

Supportive cheering reached otherworldly decibels. Even when you dropped that microphone down, your music picked back up and spotlights flickered, ending another chapter of this saga. 

*****

“I’lll keep watching her. It was crazy, Uce!” Jimmy Uso huddled with his cell phone and watched your championship match during this new segment. 

“You think Ro likes her?” Jey pulled another question about you and Reigns. Curiosity nagged beyond words. 

“I don’t think so. Flirting’s okay, but Roman acts too selfish.” Jimmy shook his head. 

“Good point. He barely puts up with us.” Jey shrugged, quickly watching your footage once more. 

Moments later, Roman entered the space and welcomed his chance to sit down, joined by Paul Heyman as usual. Fans still cheered through the walls. 

“You good?” Jimmy questioned Reigns. 

“Turn it off.” Roman gestured by Jimmy’s phone. 

Members of the audience booed when Jim’s phone turned silent, but there was no other choice at this time. 

“What’s up?” Jimmy waited. Even his twin brother Jey still looked on. 

“There’s another match. We should go.” Roman faced his cousins, ready to watch your part of the episode tonight. 

“Hold on. No way! We can’t interfere, man.” Jimmy spoke up first. 

“I’m not saying interfere.” Roman corrected his statement. 

“Then what’s going on?” Jimmy scrunched up his face. 

“We just…watch…” Roman almost shrugged. 

“Nah. We run this show, but don’t take the spotlight away from her.” Jimmy looked out for you regardless, especially this time around. 

Jimmy walked off before Roman could respond, closing this segment. 

________

“There it is! Another highlight for the Champ.” Announcers welcomed your ongoing victory streak. “Enjoy your celebration.” 

“She’s here!” Fans pulled your slogan once more. 

“USO!” Upbeat yet almost rattling music spiraled thousands out of nowhere and you immediately glanced over. 

Dynamic pair Jimmy and Jey Uso walked down this ramp. Big-time cheering would turn even louder. 

“What’s wrong?” You questioned your “brothers” when this crowd settled. 

“The Tribal Chief’s looking for you.” Jimmy offered the truth. 

“I won’t join your faction. I’ve already refused.” You declined this chance once more. 

“We’re not talking about The Bloodline.” Jimmy explained further. 

“Roman Reigns?! Where did he come from?” Before you could ask more questions, cheering heightened around the venue as commentators expressed shock. 

Towering his muscular build, Roman locked eye contact with you and shadowed power near edges of the crowd. 

“I’m not asking anymore.” His strong voice woke up everyone. 

Joining this ring, Roman passed that microphone elsewhere and sized you up, walking closer until your bodies almost met. 

His famously brown eyes pierced into your soul. 

“The Tribal Chief could plot so much tonight.” Announcers played up fear. 

“You won’t join our team, but I have another idea…” Reigns didn’t even laugh. 

“What?” You’ve asked. 

“Go out with me.” Roman dropped this bombshell. 

“Oh my goodness! What kind of question is that?” Commentators pulled astonishment right back out. 

“Why didn’t you just ask before?” You laugh. Even Jimmy and Jey listened for Roman’s upcoming answer. 

“Never thought I’d say this, but you make me nervous.” For once, this quick smile would brighten Roman’s face as he offered your compliment. 

The crowd swooned everywhere. 

“Why?” You grinned, waiting. 

“Where should I start, y’all?” Roman turned by the audience while still encouraging your presence. Cheering picked right back up. 

“Be careful! We’re still on live television.” Announcers warned Roman no matter what could happen next. 

“You’re talented, badass, and beautiful. Maybe we could…” Reigns trailed, biting his lip once more. 

“Help the family, then we’ll talk.” You understood that power might fall if Roman didn’t stand true on his word. 

Jimmy and Jey saluted, watching you leave this episode on the greatest cliffhanger of all. 

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Romantic Ending Epilogue

Chapter 25

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the script for this chapter!

We reunited in Acroite and said "goodbye" once more, each of us needing to fulfill our duties.

But this wasn't a "goodbye" forever, so there were no tears. Though tinged with loneliness, we began to move forward, this time with determination.

The days of pausing and hanging my head were over.

Some time passed after that—

Azel: This is completely useless. Start over.

Kamal: What?! How many times do you think I've rewritten this?!

Azel: It's your fault for only bringing me bills full of holes.

Azel: Even if it's outside your area of expertise, think from multiple angles. As it stands, there will inevitably be those who profit and those who suffer losses.

Kamal: Ugh... Azel, you used to draft bills so easily. I guess that really was amazing.

Enis: Of course it was. If you think we can do it just like him, you're in for a rude awakening.

Enis: Let's take it one step at a time. Kamal has only recently returned to public service.

Kamal: Sigh... I understand why people want to rely on divination.

Azel: I'll still give you an oracle if you pay me. At a special price.

Kamal: No thanks. Your divination fees are so exorbitant, I'd go bankrupt in an instant.

Enis: By the way, Kamal, how long do you intend to continue with this "older sister" act?

Enis: Now that the exile order has been lifted, there's no need to disguise yourself anymore, is there?

Kamal: I like it. Because, you know, I'm really beautiful, right?

Azel/Enis: ......That's true... / ......You are.

Kamal: Oh my, thank you! I'm so happy to have such honest little brothers.

Azel: Putting aside such trivial matters, how long do you intend to stay hidden?

(He noticed after all.)

I shift my body, which had been hiding behind a pillar, waiting for their conversation to end.

I meet eyes not only with Azel, but with Kamal and Enis as well.

Kamal: Oh, it's that time already. Miss Emma, long time no see.

Emma: It's been a while. I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation.

Azel: These two are the ones interrupting.

Kamal: Did you hear that, Enis? That misogynistic Azel is bragging so openly about his love life.

Enis: Was he bragging?

Kamal: Because he's saying, "I want to spend time with you alone as soon as possible. I don't want to be disturbed by anyone!"

Enis: That's true.

Azel: No, I'm just fed up with the sheer number of consultations you two have about official duties.

Azel: Listen, I'm already dead. Don't keep relying on a dead god.

Kamal: I know, but you're so competent, Azel. It's hard for us mere mortals to fill your shoes.

Azel: That being said, don't come back again.

Kamal: Could you at least show a little remorse?

My two older brothers don't seem to intend to stay long and start walking towards the exit.

But when they pass me, they stop dead in their tracks.

Enis: Miss Emma, have you thought about that matter?

Emma: Yes. I've discussed with the owner about opening a bookstore in Tanzanite and received permission.

(That's why I came to Tanzanite this time.)

The first thing people did when they started walking in a world without God was to seek knowledge.

The era when divination provided answers without the need for thought was over, and people were desperately flocking to the few bookstores that remained.

To improve the situation, His Majesty the King, Enis, has begun inviting book merchants to settle in the country.

This time, the owner was chosen and has been approached with an offer to open a bookstore with the support of the nation.

(But the owner is a merchant who wants to travel, so he wasn't keen on opening a Tanzanite branch.)

(...Until I raised my hand.)

Emma: I'd like to discuss various conditions...

Enis: Let's make time right now. Let's go together—

Azel: I'll handle the contract procedures. Enis, you have other things to do, don't you?

Azel, who had somehow appeared behind me, places his hands on my shoulders.

I sense an unspoken pressure from him saying, "Don't go with him."

Enis: Kamal, not again.

Kamal: He's saying, "Don't take my Emma away," right? Oh my!

Azel: Yes, you don't need my help anymore, then. That's a relief. Never come to the temple again.

Kamal: I'm sorry. But you should be a little more honest with yourself.

Kamal: No girl would feel bad about being loved.

Azel: ...>:(

Kamal: See you later then. Miss Emma, let's have a tea party together another day.

Enis: I'll take my leave as well. Miss Emma, I appreciate you considering this proposal.

Perhaps sensing Azel's pressure, this time they disappear beyond the sand clouds without stopping.

(It suddenly became quiet.)

Azel: ...What's with that big luggage?

Perhaps feeling awkward as well, Azel hurriedly breaks the silence by pointing at the luggage I had left by the pillar.

Emma: Actually, I'm having trouble finding a place to live.

Emma: I've been invited to the castle, but it's not very relaxing, so would it be alright if I imposed on you here again?

Azel: I'm in debt to you anyway. I can't disobey you, can I?

Emma: Of course, if you don't like it, I can rent a place in town—

Azel: You can stay here.

With a swift motion, he picks up my luggage, and Azel strides off into the depths of the building.

But after taking a few steps, he realizes I'm not following and turns around.

(Does this mean I can live here?)

(Before, he never even bothered to check on me like this.)

I desperately try to hide my surprise and run after him, not wanting Azel to get sulky.

Emma: Thank you very much. But I feel bad taking over part of your room like before...

Emma: I was thinking of cleaning one of the rooms and using it.

Azel: It would take years. Give up on that.

Emma: I have plenty of time.

Azel: The ceiling might collapse in places that haven't been repaired, you know?

Emma: That's a little scary... but actually, I found a good spot when I was exploring the temple before.

Azel: That place is sealed off now.

Emma: ...I haven't even said which place it is yet, have I?

Azel: A god knows these things.

Emma: You said yourself before that gods are ordinary people, Prince Azel.

Azel: I don't recall saying that.

Emma: ...Could it be that...

Azel: No.

Emma: You don't want to be apart from me for even a moment—

Azel: That's why I said no!

Emma: Eek...!

The feeling of having my cheeks pulled after so long made me a little happy.

Azel: ...Well, if you insist, I'll make you a room.

Azel: But you can only use that room from morning till evening.

Emma: Why is there a restriction?

Azel: The desert nights are cold.

Emma: I know that.

Azel: ...That's why.

(...?)

Azel, who had been walking with me, suddenly starts walking ahead, leaving me behind.

Emma: Wait!

Azel: Why should I wait?

(He said I can't use the room at night because it's cold, which means...)

Emma: Is this what you wanted to say?

I reach out to Azel and hug him tightly from behind.

(I already know this warmth.)

(Because I've experienced it so many times.)

Emma: That's right, you might be just right as a substitute for a blanket at night.

Azel: ...That's not it, but if that's what you want to think, then interpret it however you like.

Emma: You really aren't honest, are you?

Azel: I'm always honest.

Emma: But I also like that part of you that absolutely refuses to be honest.

Azel: ...

Azel turns around and looks down at me.

I feel like his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no words come out.

(...What was he about to say?)

-

After enjoying a meal together for the first time in a while, we finished our nighttime preparations, and the evening hours arrived.

With the bookstore opening discussions concluded, I took out the alcohol I had bought in town from my bag.

Emma: Actually, I brought some alcohol as a souvenir.

Azel: What are you scheming?

Emma: ...You suspect my goodwill is a scheme? How cruel.

Azel: Am I wrong?

(As expected of Azel...)

Of course, choosing alcohol as a souvenir wasn't a whim.

Emma: Since we'll be living together again, I thought I'd like to have a heart-to-heart talk with you first.

Emma: You're not very honest, so I thought we could have a real talk with the help of alcohol.

Azel: Why should I go along with something like that?

Emma: ...Because I'm uneasy.

Emma: You're easy to understand, but you never express yourself in words.

Emma: I want to make sure I'm not doing anything you dislike without realizing it.

(Precisely because he's Azel, who has been troubled by the violence of love, I want to be sure.)

(I want to make sure that barging into the temple wasn't a nuisance, that my presence isn't a burden...)

Emma: I'll go make something to drink—

As I try to move away, he grabs my hand.

Azel: ...What about you?

Emma: Me?

Azel: There are still things I don't understand about you.

Azel: ...I'm afraid that before I know it, I'll become the perpetrator...

Azel: ...

Azel: No, forget it.

Azel lets go of my hand and takes out alcohol cups from a nearby shelf.

(...I thought he wouldn't honestly admit his love because he was embarrassed.)

(But in reality, precisely because he's been tormented by love, he's afraid to acknowledge it.)

(He's afraid that he might be unconsciously inflicting violence on me too...)

(Even though he knows it's different, maybe there are wounds that haven't healed.)

Emma: Prince Azel... Do you remember what I said when you forced that debt on me?

Azel: That I'm an evil god?

Emma: Not that...

*flashback*

Emma: Even if I'm in debt, I'll say no to things I don't like.

Emma: Don't think I'll just obey everything you say.

*flashback over*

Azel: —Ah, you did say that, didn't you?

Emma: That's the kind of person I am.

Emma: I'll say no to things I don't like. Of course, I'll also say yes to things I do like.

Emma: I don't intend to hold back, even if you're a former god.

Emma: That's why... I'd be happy if you loved me a lot.

Emma: Like Kamal said, no one feels bad about being loved.

Azel: ...

Azel turns his back to me and silently pours the alcohol into the cups.

Then, after taking a sip, he returns to my side.

Emma: Of course, you can also say no to things you don't like, Prince Azel—Whoa?!

Suddenly, he scoops me up and throws me onto the bed.

Before I can sit up, Azel leans over me and lightly pecks my lips.

Azel: How is this?

Emma: Uh...

Azel: You'll say no to things you don't like, right?

He gently nibbles at my neck, and my body heats up.

It's not an unpleasant heat; I tremble at the unfamiliar sensation, but I'm not afraid.

Emma: ...I don't... dislike it...

Azel: Very well.

(Come to think of it... Doesn't Azel become a kiss-demon when he's drunk...?)

By the time I remembered this, it was already too late. He continued to kiss my neck and slowly went down my collarbone, then trailed onto my chest over the negligee.

Emma: Nn... Um...

Azel: Ah... kisses and hugs were part of the payment terms, weren't they?

Emma: ...If I request them, will you provide them?

Azel: I'm already broke, burdened with a debt I can't repay even in a lifetime.

Azel: It doesn't matter if it increases a little more now.

Emma: Ah...

When he took my nipple into his mouth, I couldn't possibly remain calm.

A strange sensation welled up inside me, and I instinctively turned over to hide my breasts.

Azel: Why are you running away? I just want to kiss you...

Emma: It's embarrassing... Ah... Nn...

He pulls down my negligee halfway, and his lips touch my exposed back.

He kisses me greedily, over and over again, and the chill of the desert night fades away.

Emma: Nn... I thought... you disliked this sort of thing...

Azel: I only dislike women driven mad by aphrodisiacs.

Azel, transformed into a kiss-demon, places a kiss behind my ear and whispers.

Azel: This is what normal lovers do, right?

(...!)

(He finally acknowledged that we're lovers.)

(...The power of alcohol is truly great.)

His large hand caresses my leg, and—

Emma: W-wait, I'll drink some alcohol too!

Azel: Huh?

Emma: I don't dislike it, but... at this rate, I feel like I'm going to go crazy with embarrassment...!

Taking advantage of an opening, I slip out of Azel's arms and grab the alcohol cup that was on the table.

Azel: Ah...

Since there was still some left in it, I drank it all in one gulp. The sweet and refreshing liquid slid smoothly down my throat.

(Delicious...)

(...Huh?)

Emma: This doesn't seem to be the alcohol I brought...

Azel: ...

Emma: ...! There are two bottles.

The bottle cleverly hidden under the table was my souvenir, and the bottle in front of me, upon closer inspection, was just a normal drink made with fruit from the desert country.

Emma: When did you switch them...?

Azel: ....................

Emma: ...So you're not... drunk...?

Azel: ...Is that bad?

Azel turns away from me.

Azel: I'm not so much of a scumbag that I would take advantage of you while drunk.

Azel: ...Well, I think I did make a move on you before, but that was an accident.

Emma: ……

Emma: Hehe…..

Azel: If you have the composure to laugh, then I won't hold back either.

He pulls me close, and with a swift motion, my already slipping negligee falls to the floor. A scream almost escapes my lips, but it's muffled by a kiss.

Emma: Ah...Nn...

This kiss, which held a hint of hiding his embarrassment, is deeper and more insistent than before.

As I desperately tried to resist him, his large hand comes up and wraps around my breasts, fingers squeezing the tip.

Unable to resist the surging waves of sensation, I felt a strange discomfort in my lower abdomen and tightly gripped Azel's clothes.

Azel: What's wrong?

Emma: Don't say "what's wrong"...

Emma: My body... feels strange...

Azel: It feels strange, but you don't dislike it, right?

(...Well...)

His hand slips between my legs, teasing a sensitive spot, and my hips buck in response.

I desperately bite back the moans that threaten to escape, but he might have heard them anyway.

Emma: Ah... Please don't hate me even if I start acting strange, okay?

Azel: ...

Azel: Are you stupid?

Emma: Ah...

His fingers push into uncharted territory, making squelching sounds.

Azel: —...You'd be cute no matter what you do.

Along with the rising pleasure, a small voice reaches my ears...

(Real love makes me this happy, huh?)

.

.

.

Romantic Ending Letter

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

[spokenforyou]

xavier x fem reader

MISTY SILHOUETTE

synopsis: xavier is in another jealous mood, so he takes it out on you in return notes: inspired by the newest cards, uses some lines! line credit to INFOLD. warnings: vulgarity, nsfw, swearing, unprotected, creampie, marks of ownership, f receiving, jealousy, possession wc: 1.9k

[minors don’t interact… by choosing to interact with this content, you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate and nsfw despite warnings!]

Xavier is having yet another one of his temper tantrums. It’s gone on a lot and it grows on your nerves over time.

He stands in front of you, trimming a plant he picked up earlier.

“This plant needs some trimming.” He mumbles under his breath and you sigh as he continues to trim, leaves falling to the floor beneath your feet.

You only assume he’s still irritated at the fact that the neighbor shows a friendly interest in you.

You sit up in your seat and tap his butt with your foot, understanding what’s going through his mind

“Xavier. Don’t take your frustration out on the plants. They’re innocent.” You pat his butt again until he turns around.

A plain look on his face, cheeks flushed, shirt undone, and darkness in his blue eyes.

“Where should I put it then?” Xavier looks down at you and lifts a brow as he steps forward.

His hand glides up your leg and under your dress, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden touch.

Your arms latch onto his shoulders and he lifts you up.

“Don’t use the same trick twice. It loses its effectiveness.” His eyes bore into yours and he smiles.

“Then what are you suggesting?” You whisper, and he puts you down, turning you to face the window.

Xavier’s palm comes up and lands on the glass beside you while one hand traces up to cup your breast. The thick fabric making it hard to feel what he wants, but he gets an idea of it as they’ve been in his hands many times before.

“Didn’t you say I shouldn’t take it out on the plants? What exactly did I do wrong?” His soft voice rings through your ears and he presses his chin on your shoulder. His touch was soft compared to his apparent mood.

“Are you pretending to be mad, Xavier?” You reach up and lift his head off your shoulder, running your fingers along his jaw.

He moves his arm and yanks your hand away, pressing it to the glass, before it returns position to your breast.

“I thought you were the type to calm down quickly, Xav…” You chuckle, and he presses himself against you, bending you a bit.

“Depends on whom I’m with, and it also depends on how I want to calm myself down…” His lips tease your ear.

You feel his growing arousal against you and he presses kisses to your neck, whispering as he does so.

“I hate when that bastard puts his eyes on you.” Xavier murmurs against your skin, his hands gripping your hips.

His sudden language takes you off guard and you can only feel him growing more heated.

“He was just being nice…” You let out the tiniest whine as he bites down.

“Nice, my ass.” He leans back and turns your head to look you in the eyes.

He clearly didn’t like the thought of another man talking to you, even if it was for a friendly chat. Wanting your eyes on him at all times, needy, clingy.

“You’re mine.” Xavier murmurs as pulls you flush up against him, his thigh slotting between your legs.

His lips crash onto yours, hand still comforting your jaw to face his, and he rocks against you as he kisses you like his life depends on it… As if your neighbor Charlie was here watching it all unfold.

Tongues twisting and dancing against each other while his other hand come to rest on the windowsill.

He moves it briefly and travels it up your arms, intertwining your hands together.

The kiss goes on for what feels like an eternity before he pulls away, the two of you panting from such a simple thing of devouring each other.

“Xav… There’s something off about you today…” you murmur and he nods.

“I agree. It’s strange…” Xavier’s hand still holds your jaw as he turns it and kisses your neck once again gently.

“It looks like I won’t be easily satisfied tonight.” He whispers before turning you and lifting you in his arms once more.

He carries you to the loveseat with a smirk as he drops you, lips going to your cheek, neck, and ear. One hand cups the back of your head and the other glides back under your dress.

“Xav, we can’t do it here…” Your hand pulls his away, and he gives you a stern look.

“Don’t move.” He suddenly stands and pulls your legs apart. “You said you’d leave me alone if I pushed my luck, right? Well, I’m pushing my luck now… Are you going to ignore me?”

Xavier leans down a bit and looks you dead in the eyes, face red, and chest heaving.

“How could I?” You chuckle and he smirks.

“Right, so you like my possessiveness, huh?” He leans down and nips your earlobe.

“Never said I hated it…” You bring his hand under your dress, running along your panties, and he chuckles darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Naughty girl…” His hands travel higher, toying with the fabric before he finally pulls it down your legs.

“I’m the only one who can touch you like this…” Xavier pulls the dress down next, leaving you with only a bra on. He quickly undoes that as well and you’re suddenly bare.

Giving you no time to protest, he kneels before you. His tongue running over your sensitive skin, exploring your folds. You moan quietly and grip his hair.

“Xav I…” He growls as he hears you mumble.

“You’re mine…” He growls against your skin, hands running up your thighs as he devours you. Pulling away once more, he looks up at you.

“And I don’t share pretty…” Diving back in he whines and you swear you see his eyes roll back.

His tongue darting for your silky folds, bliss overtaking his senses. You were a sight, and it was something he’d never get bored with seeing, tasting, or hearing.

Xavier moans against you and brings a hand down to palm himself through his tight pants.

“Mmm, we gotta let him hear you. Think these walls are soundproof or what?” He suddenly pulls away with a pop, your slick on his lips and you melt.

“Xavier… No we-” He quickly cuts you off and pulls you off the seat before dragging you to the couch, where there’s room.

He’s not a patient man, and he’s already growing impatient. He pushes you onto the couch and positions himself between your legs.

“You know I was gonna take things slow, but I don’t think that’s gonna work, baby.” He quickly pulls a condom out of his pocket, and you mentally question why he has it in there.

“Spread for me pretty girl…” He parts your legs, and he quickly takes off his clothes, standing to assist. Once bare, he gets back into position and rolls the condom on.

“Good girl, you look so pretty. All mine.” Xavier lines himself up with your entrance, sliding in with ease.

He groans at the feel of you around him. “Fuck… You feel so good. Mmm, bet Charlie wishes he could feel you like this.” He smirks down at you as he finally bottoms out.

His hips pull back before slamming back against you and you let out a loud moan. A groan from him follows.

“I’m the only man who’s getting this kind of treatment from you, right?” He murmurs against your neck as he continues his rhythm.

“Of course, Xav…” Letting out a breathy whisper, you wrap your arms around his broad back.

He moves his mouth to your collarbone, leaving bite marks and love bites all over your skin purposefully. Everyone will know you're his once they lay eyes on your skin.

You let out loud moans and cries as he continues the rough but tender pace. Every time you cry his name, it makes him possessive.

“Louder, I want to hear you…” He nips at your jaw, his lips hungry for more, needing to be on your body.

Xavier suddenly pulls you up and leans back, situating you on his lap, not slipping out of you once.

He bounces you and latches onto your hard peak, biting and sucking, earning more cries. You were certain the neighbors could hear you and you feel a sort of excitement and embarrassment.

“Ride me…” He whispers against your breast, his hands on your hips to help you keep steady and you listen.

Bouncing on him, the slaps of skin fill the room and pants from the two of you.

“Just like that…” He groans as you grind down on him, his grip on your hips tightening. Pulling away from your bruised nipple, he directs attention to the other. You whine and arch against him, pushing further into his mouth.

“Xav…” Moans leave your lips and he releases you with a pop, running his finger over your bruised skin.

Xavier suddenly lifts you up a bit and thrusts up into you, leaving the two of you breathless. You nearly collapse and he holds you against him.

“Xavier… The condom, take it off. I wanna feel you.” You whine against his neck and he groans before pausing.

He looks up at you through hooded eyes and he whispers. “…Are you sure?”

You nod, and he bites his lip. “I’m on birth control, Xav, it’s okay.” You offer a smile and he nods before gently lifting you off him.

He hovers you above him as he pulls it off. His cock hardens even more as the cold air hits him, a hiss leaving his mouth. Pre-cum coating his length, he strokes a few times before lowering you back down.

You two let out loud gasps as you feel each other bare. You move against him and he nods, “Mmm…”

He keeps one hand on your hip to steady you as his other explores your body, his touches almost desperate. Bodies moving together you both fill the room with moans, needy ones from him.

Your body tightens, and you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “Xavier, I’m not gonna last much longer.” You lean down and press kisses to his neck.

“Neither am I, I’m so close baby…” He mutters, almost a needy whine and you feel your stomach twist. His fingers going down to rub your clit in time with the pulsing of your body.

His fingers were all it took and you’re sent over the edge of oblivion. Xavier groans and finishes with you. His hand pulls away from your clit and he wraps his arms around your back.

You collapse into his arms and he holds you while you both ride through your climaxes. His cock throbs inside of you as he fills your womb, tip pressing to your cervix.

“Ah…” You let out a whine and he smirks, sweat dripping.

“So good baby…” He rubs your back as you catch your breath. You pull back and his gaze drifts over your face in admiration.

“Xavier…” you mutter, and he tucks a piece of your tousled, wet hair behind your ear.

“Will you… Will you only be like this when you’re upset?” You run your fingers gently across his jaw and he flutters his eyes shut.

“Will you always comfort me this way?” He smiles and leans in, kissing you, tangling your tongue with him once again.

The kiss was tender and endearing, pushing his love into it. And you the same. Your two bodies heat as you embrace each other.

After kissing a bit, he pulls you off him and lays you down on the couch beside him. Xavier gets up and heads to the bathroom, coming back with a cloth.

He quickly wipes the mess between your legs and takes it to the laundry room before returning to you.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls a throw blanket from the arm of the couch, throwing it over the two of you.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” He looks over at you and you shake your head with a look of love.

“I’ll never leave you.”

[sanjoongie]

💔Pairing: Host! Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

💔Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

💔Au: ex-idol au, host au

💔Trope: lovers to ex's

💔Word Count: 3,120

💔Warnings: drinking, drinking and driving, seonghwa wanting to get into readers pants, seonghwa breaking readers heart

💔Rated: 18+ MDNI

💔Summary: Seonghwa can't help but visit all the places that remind him of you

💔Author's Note: immediately inspired by Seonghwa's cover of Vaundy's Odoriko. Seonghwa and Angst goes hand in hand so hopefully you can enjoy this new year's instant inspiration!

Seonghwa slowly pulls out of sleep and wearily reaches across the bed. He pats his hand against a cold mattress before he regains enough thought to remember-- you're not here. 

He sighs deeply and brings back his hand to his chest. He hates when he wakes up like this; like he still expects you to be in the bed with him.

But he's awake now. He doesn't bother to look at the time. He just goes through the motions of his broken heart. He dresses in all black like he's mourning the loss of you. He gets in his car and starts to drive.

The street lights are blurry at best and he wonders for a moment if he was still drunk and hasn't slept it off yet. Despite this, he still manages to drive across the bridge and find the spot where you two had met.

🌟🌟🌟

You were walking back from an impromptu trip to the convenience store when you noticed the same damn guy that was always drunk at this time of night leaning against a building. You had passed him so many times during the warmer months that he was practically a feature on the street, like the lamps. It was getting cold however, summer turning into fall, and you knew you couldn't let him do it again.

“Hey guy,” You shouted. “You can’t sleep here.”

The guy’s eyelashes fluttered but his eyes didn't open. 

You sighed and tried again. You put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. His head moved around listlessly with the motion. “You have to wake up and go home!”

The guy mumbled under his breath but you couldn’t seem to catch what he said. Instead, his head fell forward and settled on your shoulder. You sighed deeply. 

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere warmer. Maybe you’ll wake up and drink some water and sober up.”

How you managed to tug the lanky guy up and get him to lean on you, bewildered you. You almost fell over, with his weight pushing you to the asphalt, but you gained your balance just in time. Thankfully, your apartment wasn’t too far up the stairs and the guy knew enough to put one foot in front of the other and climb up with you.

By the time you dumped him in your hallway and took off both your shoes, you’re exhausted. So was he, apparently, because no amount of insistence got him to wake up and consume anything. He simply sat, legs at odd angles, smiling to himself as he drunk-slept. 

You sat on your couch, eating your snacks and watching your show. Your eyes were drawn back to the drunk guy still at the base of your door. Your anxiety catched up with your kindness. You couldn’t possibly put this guy back outside, it has gotten colder as the hours have passed. But you couldn't just leave him…

In a fit of overthinking, you used the tie to your morning robe and tied him up to your shoe rack. You felt better going to sleep knowing he couldn't assault you or steal anything. 

“What the hell?” A loud shout woke you and it all came back to you quickly. The drunk man in your hallway must have woken up.

You rushed out of your bedroom to the living room and barely missed a shoe being thrown at you. 

“You better not be some crazy ex-fan because I will not stop yelling until someone calls the police!” 

You held your hands up defensively. “Chill, guy, I just couldn't let you sleep outside. I’ll untie you right now, just don’t throw my shoes around.”

The guy watched you with a glare as you shuffled to his figure and moved to untie his hands. Once he was free, he rubbed his wrists and stared at you balefully. “Bullshit. No one is that nice.”

You shrugged and left him for a moment. You came back with a bottle of water and his eyes widened a fraction. “Drink some water, you’ll need it after how drunk you were last night.”

The guy tilted his head, confusion written all over his face. “Why would you help me?”

You ducked your head. “I’ve seen you fall asleep in that same spot all summer. It’s too cold for you to do that anymore, ‘kay? Just go home.”

The guy stood up and you were reminded how much taller he was than you. “I…thank you…” he smiled shyly.

You took a step back and waved your hands in front of you. “Oh no no, no thanks required.”

“Here, this is my card. If you ever feel like I can pay you back, go to this place. First rounds on me.”

You took his card, because it was the only polite thing to do, but you frowned at his words. “Really? Drinks are on you?”

As per the card, his name was Park Seonghwa, apparently. 

Seonghwa chuckled. “It is a bar, after all. It’s the least I can do. Give you a fun night to remember after dealing with my drunk ass.”

It felt like his charm was sinking into you so you pushed him out the door with a gentle goodbye.

🌟🌟🌟

Seonghwa’s head hits the wall of that exact same spot you found him at that fateful night. He knows you won’t pass here--in fact, you’re most likely avoiding it at this moment. He’d do anything to see you again. 

When the memories of you seem to float away, he chases the feeling and moves back to his car. He sits on the pavement on the passenger’s side of the car and contemplates what happens next. 

He pulls out his phone, looking through photos of you. He has so many of you, he has to laugh at himself a little at the absurdity of it. Some are photos you let him take of you two together, faces squished and photos blurry because of the laughter and his shaky hand. But the ones he cherishes the most are ones he took candidly, ones you didn’t even know he took…

🌟🌟🌟

You couldn't get Seonghwa out of your head. So you found yourself at the address that was on his card. You were a bit dumbfounded to find yourself outside of a host bar, however.

A shaggy hard man greeted you with a toothy grin and an enthusiastic tone. “Good evening, Miss, and welcome to Selfish Waltz. Do you have someone in mind this evening or should I show you our roster?”

“Ah, um, is Seonghwa available?” You wondered.

The greeter's grin grew broader. “What an excellent choice! Seonghwa is quite popular. I’ll get you a booth with him immediately.”

“Uh--” 

The shaggy haired guy paused, looking at you before he left. “Can you just tell him it’s the girl he gave his card to? I’m not here for the reasons you think I am.”

He let out a high pitched laugh. “Honey, you’re all here for the same thing.” Shaking his head, he continued back into the club, hopefully finding Seonghwa for you. 

You heard your name being shouted down the dark hall with the neon lights along the floor. Seonghwa rushed down to greet you. His smile was happy and genuine. “You made it! I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I…” You gathered your courage and plunged through what was about to be an awkward conversation. “You could have said you worked at a host bar, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa pushed his hands into his slack’s pockets, not meeting your gaze now. “I wanted you to come.”

You sighed and pushed aside any anxiety you had at that moment. You owed it to Seonghwa to let him treat you. He looked so happy you were here. “It better be expensive. The first round, I mean. Because you owe me from that night, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand and ushered you down the hallway, towards the soft, pulsating base coming from hidden speakers. “It is. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Even though you only had the one shot, you found that you had a lot of fun with Seonghwa. True to his job, he made you feel like you were the centre of attention. He made you laugh and you felt the charm of him pushing against your walls again. You weren’t entirely sure how much of it was Seonghwa and how much of it was his job but…

“I’m glad I came,” You said softly.

Seonghwa’s eyes softened. “I’m glad you came too.”

You put on a bright smile, preparing to separate permanently. “Thank you for repaying me. I hope you succeed in the future.”

Seonghwa frowned as you stood up. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye forever?”

You chuckled under your breath. “I’m sorry I can’t be a future customer, Seonghwa. I don’t have money to throw around.”

Seonghwa grabbed your hand and folded it in between both of his. “Then don’t be my customer.”

“What?”

“Wanna go on a date with me?” Seonghwa stared at you, eyebrows furrowing slightly, waiting for your response.

“Seonghwa, I'm seriously, you don't have to--”

“--I haven't felt this good in a long time,” he confessed. 

You pushed your hair behind your ear. “I'd like that.”

🌟🌟🌟

A lump forms in Seonghwa’s throat as he drives in his car. He can't stand it anymore, he has to see you again.

His eyes go blurry again but he's not worried about being half drunk anymore. His tears cloud his vision and he dashes them away angrily. He has no right to feel like this after the way he treated you.

“Please be home, please be home,” Seonghwa chants as he pulls off the highway.

His heart is in his throat as he follows the familiar turns to get to your place. He parks down the street, worried you'll see his car and brace yourself against him.

As he makes his way to your apartment. He stumbles a bit, as if his feet are trying to tell him this is a bad idea. But he's too determined to see your face again; regardless of how you'll react to him.

He raises his hand to knock on the door, his gut eating itself, as he remembers the first time he was sober and you let him in…

🌟🌟🌟

“Ah yes,” Seonghwa said with amusement. “My old friend, the shoe rack.”

Your face heated up with embarrassment. “Shut up, Seonghwa, I didn't know what to do with you!”

Seonghwa's lips twisted into a crooked side grin. “I could think of a few things you could have done with me.”

You picked up on the crudeness of his statement and got even more worked up. “Can you drop it? God, it's like you--” You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend, who was looking quite pleased with himself. “Are you deliberately trying to get me worked up?!”

Seonghwa wound his arms around you, pulling your body flush with his own. “It turns me on when you get angry with me.”

You slapped him on the chest and he let out a belly laugh. “Park Seonghwa!”

Slowly, Seonghwa walked you  towards your bedroom, keeping you within the enclosure of his arms. “Come on. We always fuck at my place.” 

You scrunch your nose up in distaste. “That's because I don't want to fuck you at my place. It's too close to your work and you always smell like another woman’s perfume.”

Seonghwa’s nose nudged the space just below your ear, on your neck. You could feel his grin against your skin before he placed a kiss there. “Well, I want to fuck you at your place with another woman’s perfume on me. Feels taboo; like I’m cheating.”

“Seonghwa!” You admonished him a second time. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

By now, your boyfriend has managed to get you into your bedroom. “If we’re quick, I can have you in my t-shirt and on the couch and we can finish that episode we were watching last time with some cake.”

“Are you seriously bribing me with sweets so you can get it in?” You pushed his shoulder, so you could make eye contact and send a look of good-natured bewilderment his way.

“You want me to turn on my host charm instead?” Seonghwa said with a shit-eating grin.

You avoided his question with one of your own. “Are you living out a fantasy right now? Is that what this is? Coming home to your woman and distracting her with your wiles even though you smell like another woman?”

“Help me get the taste of that other woman from my tongue,” Seonghwa purred, tilting his head for a kiss.

You pressed your hand to his chest to stop him and he did, only a hairsbreadth from your lips. “You are going to stop this right now.��

“Of course, Lover,” Seonghwa purred again, and pushed his lips to yours.

🌟🌟🌟

“Please, Lover, let me see your face,” Seonghwa wails as he knocks on your door.

You’re not answering and he’s getting desperate. 

“Seonghwa… you can’t be doing this again…”

Your voice comes out tiny from the other side of the door and Seonghwa’s heart leaps at the sound of it.

He presses his face to your door, the cool wood relieving some of the heat of his face. “I don’t have to bother the neighbours if  you just let me in,” He cajoles.

“No.” Your voice sounds so frail. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Please. I won’t pull any tricks or try to tempt you. I just need to see your face. Please.” Seonghwa’s teeth dig into his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

There’s silence on the other end and Seonghwa is terrified that you’ve left him. But it was worse than that. “You deserve better, like you said. Go spend time finding her. Leave me alone.”

Seonghwa can’t stop the tears that stream down his face as he hears his own words thrown back at him. He never meant to hurt you. You had done nothing but shine a light into his dim world…

🌟🌟🌟

You were waiting for Seonghwa at his place. You had already planned to meet up after his shift. You wished you hadn't

Seonghwa slammed his door closed after entering. He didn’t say a word to you but as he passed by, he reeked of alcohol. You told yourself it was just because he had a high paying client but when you watched him spend too many minutes struggling to take off his leather jacket, you knew you were lying to yourself.

“Bad day?” You offered sympathetically.

Seonghwa blew a raspberry but let you help him with his jacket. “I had a stupid old fan come find me today.”

You winced. As an ex-idol who failed miserably, Seonghwa had turned his ability to charm women into a career while working at a host club. What seemed like a smart idea at the time, cashing in on his fanbase to continue to support him although he couldn't be an idol, was really starting to hurt him now in his later years of life. Any fan that visited him at the host club only reminded Seonghwa of his failed dream.

“Seonghwa, maybe you should think about finding another job,” You murmured, pressing a cool hand to his hot face.

Seonghwa opened his eyes and glared at you balefully. “I only have my face and my charm to make money. Who’s gonna hire me? Do you want to move to the coast and I’ll work on a fishing boat for you? Would that make you happy?”

You let your hand fall from his face and leaned back from his harsh words. “That’s not what I meant. That place isn’t good for you mentally and--”

Seonghwa tipped his head back and laughed bitterly. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for you? Don’t want to tell anyone about your host boyfriend? Tired of smelling other women’s perfume on me?”

“No! Seonghwa!” He was drunk, you told yourself, he didn’t mean any of it.

“I should be a famous idol by now!” Seonghwa shouted. He stood up, barely keeping his balance. “I deserved better than this shitty life! I should have a celebrity girlfriend who I spoil with designer clothes, not--”

You let out a noise of hurt and that finally interrupted Seonghwa’s monologue. His eyes slowly turned to you and it took him a moment for everything to sink in. What he said. The tears in your eyes. “Shit.”

You stood up quickly, taking Seonghwa’s leather jacket that you had folded up on your lap and placing it carefully on his couch. “I should go.”

“I--”

You breathed in and out deeply. “No, you’re right, Seonghwa. You deserve better. I never should have let you convince me that we should go on that date. I knew better, I truly did, but I thought you were being honest with me. For once.” 

Seonghwa winced at your shot that he was never himself. Did he even know where host Seonghwa ended and the real Seonghwa began?

You met his eyes and smiled so cheerfully but the tears were threatening to escape now. “You can tell everyone that I broke up with you. That way, the girls at the club will sympathize with you.”

“No, wait, I--” Seonghwa reached out to stop you but you nimbly moved out of his grasp. He was too drunk.

“For what it’s worth… I hope the pretend happiness you felt with me distracted you from your pain sometimes.”

And with that you were gone.

🌟🌟🌟

Seonghwa wakes up and reaches across his bed for you. The cold mattress meets his palm and he wonders if you’ve gotten up to take a shower without him. He smiles to himself, moving to lay on his back. He wonders if you’ll shriek if he joins you. He--

Seonghwa sits up and runs a hand through his hair. You aren’t in his shower. You aren’t in his apartment. You aren't even in his life right now and it’s all his fault. 

He falls backwards, letting his head hit the pillow dramatically. 

Maybe if he parks outside of your work with a bouquet of flowers, you’ll not ignore him when you see him. Maybe he could convince you to let him back in your life.

Or maybe he can just get drunk enough that he couldn't remember you or not drunk enough so he can recall how your hair felt between his fingers when he played with it. 

Seonghwa had thought that his idol past was the true regret of his life but he knew losing you was worse.

[nerdynumme-rp]

Rosanna's head cocked to the side at the question, then as Rose adds on to it, it straightens again. She blinks a few times, as if pressing buttons to get the right answer. She gives Rose a smile and shrugs, it was nice to hear someone thought that of her. That she was rooted down, a growing tree. She was the one trapped in her head with all the sour apples that sometimes threatened to grow from her branches, that she forgot she was too close to situation to admire from the outside view. It was nice to hear that view was more positive than she had thought. Always worried she looked as messy as her inner demons lead her to believe. "That's actually so sweet of you to say." she starts, and she even finds herself blushing a bit. "I... I guess I've been here long enough?" she starts, her voice hitching with question. She laughs, and realizes that does make her sound old, but ... it was just time. And the fog kind of helped her realize that. Mark reminding her too. Their stay didn't determine their elderliness. They still were spring chickens, they just adapted to their coop. "It wasn't like this at first. It was so messy." she says, rolling her eyes at the drama of yore. Thinking of Cyr. Thinking of Shawna. Of Trisha. Of Bethany. Of so many faces and names who now seemed like ghosts of their past. "I was muddled in a bunch of tar for awhile. And don't be fooled, I'm still stuck in the mud every now and then. But, I guess time really moves you forward, even if you don't want it to, or don't see it. You adapt, you grow." she sighs. It still didn't feel like a real answer but, it was the best she got. "I'm still here though, so clearly I still have shit to go through." and she did. She knew it. The past few months were very much nods to it. But right now, things felt steady on the waters again. "I promise you I am not as carefree as I appear though. I just... have been here awhile." she wants to talk about how she is a professional at masking anymore. But she feels that's not something to brag about, or recommend. Especially not to someone so young, like Rose. She wanted better for her. She didn't want her using shields to comfort others, and feel fake comfort for herself.

Deck the (Alpha) Halls ||War of the Roses

.

[mindself]

... to put it simply, I've had so many false starts, I'm afraid this is a false start too.

[mortispoxi]

Seeing Twitter users recommending the People Make Games documentary as a good way to get insight on the issue is so….

I know, I’m always extremely disappointed whenever I come across someone who thinks it’s the end all be all explanations regarding the Studio ZA/UM situation.

Recommending that video always comes with a heavy caveat from me that the person needs to stop around the 40 minute mark since the interviewer shows a very clear bias that’s unbecoming of a journalist.

Regardless, now that more people are finding out about these layoffs, which might take out members of the studio that have been there since the beginning, it could finally help smack some sense into those Twitter users that actually thought, FOR SOME REASON, Rostov, Kurvitz, and Hindpere were lying for shits and giggles rather than seeing what's ACTUALLY going on which is that the investors have a very obvious agenda against the real wronged party. Hopefully this'll also open their eyes to how the People Make Games video fed into this twisted narrative that Kurvitz was somehow at fault/responsible for the theft of his own IP, but that might be asking too much from their concrete brains. Here's hoping though!

[everything-is-as-it-was]

Oh my god there’s so many thoughts and I love all ALL of them!!

This is something that I’ve actually thought about for a long time, but never actually had the words for it.

I think DINOK was a good idea, I think people would have enjoyed it, but for as big of a production it seemed to be… I think it would have been generally kind of ill-received. I personally would have watched it and probably liked it a lot! But for people who don’t know Dan or his life or his work… idk. The idea of some guy making an entire show about his life had it gone differently, then playing himself in said TV show, at its core, does sound a bit egotistical.

(Again that’s absolutely NOT me calling Dan egotistical, but I’m just saying that is how it could have been perceived by the general public)

But it was definitely important for him, to write that show and go through that journey because it led to WAD. And looking at both of those productions simply in terms of their concepts, it really does seem like going through with WAD was way more productive for Dan as a person than DINOK would have been. And this is me getting somewhat parasocial, but as you said, WAD is about moving forward, whereas DINOK is a rumination. DINOK is looking at what could have been where as WAD is looking at what IS and dealing with it. And in a way, I don’t think Dan was ready to write WAD at the time he wrote DINOK. It feels to me like he needed to write DINOK and go through that process before he was ready to confront the true reality that we ARE all doomed, and he needed a bit of growth in order to confront that reality but still come out of it with an optimistic message.

Tbh it does make me a bit emotional when we get into how much Dan has clearly grown after coming out. It shows that coming out is NOT the end of the story, not the end of the journey. And he’s SO happy now. Mannnnnnnnn oh man

No please tell us your thoughts on dinok, dinok is all I think about all the time

i waited to answer this for a really long time because i have been struggling to formulate some of my thoughts. i have two main thoughts about DINOK, but i only really explore one of them because i have long since thought the other one was a bit reductive-- which was essentially exploring the implications of Phil's absence in DINOK. i don't think phil himself, as much as i love him, should be centered or heavily involved in the discussion about DINOK, because as i go on to elaborate, i think everything internally and from an external meta about DINOK was very much about dan transitioning from a rumination period of his life to one where he confronts the idea of moving forward.

i think DINOK is fascinating when put in comparison to WAD, because both of them were functionally intended to do the same thing but had drastically different journeys.

DINOK was based on dan's experience with his sexuality in particular, based on the premise that if dan never came out as gay he would end up being a lawyer and et cetera et cetera, having a breakdown at age 30. from there he goes through a comedic journey (in a dark comedy way) where he reconciles with his own sexuality, and by the end presumably finds that kind of self acceptance and happiness. in a lot of ways, that end goal is really similar to WAD (as is the dark comedy because Woah), except WAD is a lot more global in its end goal-- with the idea that everyone may be doomed, but there is so much good in the world anyway, and so much one person can do to fight against that doom-- and is also a bit broader when it comes to dan! WAD is about dan's sexuality, but it's also about dan reconciling with the rapidly changing and- to him- deteriorating world. and with that comes some questions about his own content and other parts of his identity. it's about more than just his sexuality-- which is NOT to say that making a special about just his sexuality "wouldn't be enough", that's not my point at all. but what i'm saying is there's a difference of scope, and i think that difference came... because of DINOK.

like, DINOK is riding off of the freedom he experienced coming out in basically i'm gay. but as we saw repeatedly BIG didn't resolve a ton of dan's issues with his sexuality-- from his one-off comedy gig and gay and not proud (note that content in G&NP was cut by youtube for the original so we only saw a slivered down version. that being said im still insane about it but, as a disclaimer) we see that he struggled to feel pride with his sexuality despite having come out, didn't know where he fit into the queer community as a whole, and was altogether ruminating. DINOK, in my opinion, was dan trying to answer those questions fully in his own terms. it's him trying to grapple with the struggles he still has around his sexuality through the POV of a different version of him that may experience that more "acutely" than dan does-- because from a public perspective, dan very much is part of the queer community! he was like one of the top role models for queer British teens as voted recently in that one magazine i don't remember the title. but internally, it's different, and getting to explore that through the lens of DINOK Dan who does NOT present as being super in the queer community was probably a cathartic thought!

but with the inability to produce DINOK due to YouTube's overall negligence, that left dan in a strange position. his sexuality now felt almost used against him because of all these fucking originals he was getting dragged into, builboards in the like-- his sexuality was something that he should be proud of, with all these accomplishments and shows, but they felt hollow and not like something he really deserved. and that inherently segues into talks about capitalism and fame as a whole because -- after DINOK failed, dan was no longer working with hypothetical alternate universes, but was instead forced to reckon with his own.

quick detour to dystopia daily because i am really fond of it-- i think DD was also part of the WAD process in that it's about dan being trapped behind this persona but using it to kind of explore content creation, and himself, and in a lot of ways i think the performance was a satire but in other ways i think it was a cocoon phase. testing the waters of the future of daniel howell's content, but through dragging an antiquated persona into a different time in order to ask that. so i think it runs like DINOK -> DD -> WAD.

and by the end of WAD dan came out of it feeling more authentically himself, not liberated by the performance from DD, and not liberated through the proxy of his alternate universe self in DINOK. WAD is dan having to reckon with this as HIM, as daniel howell in the years 2022 and surrounding, as his own person. i admit at this part of the post that i did watch WAD but haven't rewatched it and that a lot of the segments weren't really my favorite so i don't actually remember beat for beat what happens in WAD (i'm more invested in WAD as a meta than as an actual stage show with segments, to be honest), but like... overarchingly that is about dan! it ends in a painfully vulnerable place, and he sheds away from the black and the shadows to start wearing orange and enter kind of this new phase of dan howell. one where he is more openly queer but is also more openly... everything! and we see all of that now when we see new content with dan and how happy he looks.

DINOK fascinates me because i wonder if the end outcome would have felt the same for dan. i think DINOK roots itself less in existential crises as a whole and more specifically those about his sexuality, while WAD asks the question of "what comes next?" which i think is really interesting and is also more helpful.

which is why, though i sometimes think about the fact that book deals tend to come in twos (fly high DAPGO) and that dan has only released one book thus meaning he could release DINOK as a book, the more i think about it the more i... don't think he would. i think the time for DINOK has passed. i think it was more of a psychological state for him, a rumination, and from here on it's about moving forward. to the day after the night.

... if any of this makes any sense at all, God i am yapping. but i hope you get it? i hope you get it.